21 comments/ 164932 views/ 23 favorites Pivotal Points By: qdata Author's preamble: Pivotal Points © is a fictional story containing graphic descriptions of an incestuous relationship between a mother and her son. Sexually active characters are at least eighteen years of age. If material of this nature is illegal where you are viewing it, please surf away now. If this kind of story is in any way offensive to you, may I respectfully suggest you hit the back button on your browser and select a different category. I have no wish to offend my readers. To those who remain to read, please don't expect instant gratification, I've tried to write an erotic story, not a fuck-fest. Having said that, I'll leave you to your reading. -oOo- My son went through a pretty bad patch in his early teens -- the usual thing, on the fringes of a territory gang, hanging around with a couple of brothers from one of the local problem families, and getting into mischief. That was fine, boys have to rebel but when the community police brought him back home two or three times I got worried about the way he was heading. Especially as they told me he'd been caught smoking marijuana and I had caught a whiff of alcohol on his breath a couple of times. His father hadn't been around since he was a toddler so there was only me to take matters in hand. At the very least, I thought, I needed to get him off the streets and away from the bad company, somehow. Give him a new interest but what? After some thought I decided to take him along to my amateur dramatic society. He whinged all the way there and sulked at the back of the hall the first couple of times. Until, that is, our only available young man broke his leg showing off to his girlfriend. As you can imagine, we don't get many members his age and we were in the early stages of rehearsing a new production so my Rob was asked to fill in. That changed his attitude, he was soon hooked. His wasn't a big speaking part but he had lots of entrances as a page boy in a costume comedy. His page boy wasn't supposed to be a comic part but when he accidentally tripped on his feet on one entrance and made a miraculous recovery, preserving his silver tray's contents, which he calmly continued to serve to his mistress, Maggie, our director, saw the potential immediately. Clapping her hands loudly to stop the action, she called, "Robbie, darling," he was embarrassed when she called him by that name but she continued, oblivious to his discomfort, "Can you do that again? You know, the trip and so on ..." Rob agreed to try so Maggie instructed, "Places everyone, we'll take it from, 'Upon my honour ...'" Rob went 'off stage' and perfectly on cue he rescued himself from another spectacular trip. Thereafter Maggie had him tripping and falling all over the place with almost every entrance and he'd always come up bouncing and continued with whatever he was doing as if nothing had happened. With just that, Maggie changed the whole tenor of the play. And the cast, too, as everybody got involved more enthusiastically. Rob just loved all the attention he got and became a dedicated member of the Pinchley Amateur Dramatic Society. He didn't hang around with the other guys anymore and that sullen scowl which he habitually wore was often replaced with a happy grin, especially on rehearsal nights. He threw himself into his rôle as an inept and clumsy page boy -- literally threw himself into it with his tumbles. After almost every session I found myself bathing his little cuts, scrapes and bruises but he never complained and just took the same bumps next time. Eventually the play came together and we were making our final preparations. Then at the costume fitting the poop hit the fan. Rob hadn't realised what page boys wore. The ornate wig, heavily buckled shoes, braided gold tunic and gold silk tights freaked him out. There was no way he was going to wear that outfit, he shouted, and stalked out. I told Maggie to leave it to me and when we had finished I took his costume home with me. He was on his bed watching something on TV when I got back. I switched the set off and stood in front of it, hands on hips and legs slightly apart. "Get out the way," he said sullenly, making a grab for the remote in my hand. "Shut up and sit down!" I pushed him back onto the bed. "You've been rehearsing that page boy character for over two months now and you're good. Very good. So tell me, Mr Bloody Page Boy, how did you expect to dress? Levis and a Beckham shirt?" He just sat there sulking. "Well?" I demanded, "What did you expect?" He shrugged and for long seconds said nothing then the whinge came back to his voice, "I can't wear that costume. They'd laugh me off the estate." "Who would laugh you off the estate?" I was getting more than a little annoyed. "Those shit-for-brains Doug and Phil? They're going one way in life -- the local jail -- and that's just where you'll end up if you don't stop worrying about what they think or don't think. How the hell will they see you anyway? Can you see those so-called mates of yours turning up for the Lower Pinchley Amateur Dramatic Society's production of 'Maid of Dishonour'? "Look," I said with an exasperated sigh, "Out there with them you've got no life. Look at them -- their mother's messed up her body and head on drugs, she'll screw with anyone who will buy her next fix," including her sons, I thought disdainfully. "She wears a tag and is barred from half the stores in Pinchley for shoplifting. Phil has an ASBO out on him and Doug's heading that way. Are their brothers in jail or out on parole at present?" I got on my knees in front of him and took hold of his hands. "Rob, is that what you want from life? Living on the social and never making ends meet? Sharing a doss house with half a dozen crack heads? Frazzle your brains with the stuff they use? Drink until you slip on your own vomit and smash your non-existent brains out?" I paused to calm myself down. "At PADS I've seen a change in you, son. You've taken to it like a duck to water, you're happy there. I like the new Rob, he's kinda nice to have around." I smiled and received just a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth in return. "I don't know if you are good enough to be a professional actor although you might at least think of the stage as a career. But an actor wears the costumes the character calls for!" Again I paused to catch my thoughts. "Look, son, as we get older we can sometimes look back on our lives and recognise some turning points. Like the day I met your Dad, for instance. If I had decided to stay at home and wash my hair one night, as I had planned, I would never have met him and you would never have been born. "We don't usually recognise the moments when they come so it's often only in retrospect we can see those pivotal points in our lives. You're at just such a point now. You can hang around out there on the estate, bunk off school and throw your life away on drink and drugs and crime, finish up having your arse reamed out in prison or you can try on that page boy suit and decide to make something of your life." I placed the offending garments on his bed and said, "The choice is yours, Rob. I can't force you either way." Squeezing his hands once again, I stood and left the room, closing the door quietly behind me. With some despair, I heard the TV come back to life and my heart was heavy as I returned to my kitchen and made myself a pot of tea, brushing the tears from my eyes. It was about fifteen minutes later I heard a call from upstairs, "Mum, can you help me?" I returned to Rob's bedroom and saw him struggling with his gold uniform. "What's the problem?" I asked with a lift to my spirits. "It's these buttons at the back, I just can't get to them." He turned and showed me the offending fastenings and it didn't take me long to sort the problem out. The tights fit him like a glove so I helped him on with the elaborately braided tunic, pulled everything straight and stood back to look at him. "Well, it fits perfectly! Now there's just the wig." I pinned it on his head then said, "Come and have a look." I took him into my bedroom and stood him in front of the full length mirror. For a couple of silent minutes he posed, giggling a little as he turned this way and that to get a better look, tugging at the hems to smooth out the wrinkles. Eventually he told me he thought he could wear it for the play. I sent up silent prayers of thankful relief to any god who cared to listen then said, "Now we have to see if you can still tumble about in those tight pants." He walked back towards his bedroom door, took a deliberate trip, bounced off the door frame and with a quick roll he was back on his feet with a big grin on his face. "Yep," he announced, "I reckon I can handle that!" His face turned serious as he turned and gave me a hug. "And thanks, Mum," he whispered in my ear giving me a peck on the cheek. Opening night. The church hall echoed to the scraping of the wooden chairs as the audience started to take their places and slowly the seats filled up. Just a couple of minutes after 7:30 the hall lights were dimmed down and the bright stage lights illuminated the countess perched on an ornate sofa. The hum from the audience died down and the Bishop entered, stage left ... Two hours later the church hall resounded to generous applause and cheers as the whole cast lined up to take a bow. Maggie came on and took her share of the tributes and it was she who singled out Rob and pulled him forward to the increased whistles, clapping and stamping feet from the audience. Ever willing to play up to this attention, he took a deep bow and fell flat on his face, sending the audience into further rapturous cheers. * * * That was five years ago. Rob had dropped his old friends in time -- Doug and Phil were now detained 'At Her Majesty's Pleasure' for the brutal murder of a kid who owed them drugs money but Rob had settled down at school and worked hard for his A levels. His social life changed and he found that girls were interesting: he even dated Julienne at PADS for a while but nothing much came of it and they were still good friends. In September he would be taking up his place at RADA with a life in the theatre ahead of him and was now a leading member of the Pinchley ADS. The indefatigable Maggie had chosen for our next production a bedroom farce; Rob's last play before starting at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. Maggie cast me as a middle-aged socialite frustrated in her efforts to seduce a handsome student -- to be played by Rob. The last act is where she traps her youth in the bedroom and she prances around in her underwear for most of the act. She finally manages to bed her student and the play ends with them kissing and sliding under the bedclothes. The whole bedroom scene is supposed to be an hilarious frolic. My son and I had developed a habit of rehearsing our lines at home so we would often be found chasing each other round the kitchen table as we worked through the hectic scenes and would often collapse in fits of giggles. Shortly before the dress rehearsal I went shopping for my own costume. I shopped carefully and finished up with a solid black corset which hugged my generous figure (losing me a couple of inches I could afford) and pushed my boobs up to display a deep cleavage while preserving my public 'decency'. Fishnet tights and four-inch heels completed my costume and, checking myself in the mirror in my bedroom, I looked like a vamp. Rob's eyes popped out of his head when he first saw me in costume and he fluffed his lines all evening, something he never did. It was the same next rehearsal: he was just a bundle of nerves whenever I was dressed in my undies. Back home I decided to tackle him head on and discover what was the trouble. "You're just too sexy," was all I could get out of him. That pulled me up short. Me, too sexy? Then it began to dawn on me that seeing his mother in her underwear and jumping in and out of bed with her was putting an enormous strain on a healthy -- and randy -- youth. I needed to get him comfortable seeing me like that so I spent the whole of the next weekend dressed in nothing but my costume as I worked through my chores. By Sunday evening he seemed much more relaxed around me, even dressed as I was so I suggested we have another practice session. As we exchanged our final kiss and disappeared under my bedclothes he groaned, "Oh, Mum," and he placed his hand on my breast and groped. I was shocked rigid for a couple of seconds, conscious of his bulge pressing into my thigh. I jumped out of bed, opened the door and pointed. "Out!" I said. "Now!" I shouted, "Get out!" He hung his head and started picking up the clothes that had been scattered in our chase around the bed but I screamed at him to leave them and just get out. Still not looking at me he slunk out the room. I slammed the door behind him then lay on my bed seething with anger. But my body still remembered where he had touched my breast and thigh. When I had calmed down I got to thinking about the situation. He was a very healthy eighteen-year old boy/man with testosterone going crazy in his blood and he was being asked to cavort in and out of bed with what he had already described as a 'sexy' woman in her underwear. And all this weekend I'd been walking around in that underwear. To get him relaxed with the sight, had been my intention and then, with full 20/20 vision in hindsight, I realised he thought it had been a come-on. Probably that teasing romp in the bedroom rehearsal had been the last straw. I couldn't be angry with him for that, could I? At the breakfast table next morning my son was clearly as embarrassed as I felt then finally he said in a quiet voice, "Sorry, Mum." "No, Rob. It is I who should apologise to you. I've been running around in that corset all weekend so there would be nothing unusual when you saw me like that in the play, at least that's the way I saw it. To me it's just another costume in just another play. I guess maybe you saw it different. I'm sorry, son, I never meant to tease you, it'll never happen again. Can we just put last night behind us, please?" "If you like, Mum. But you're still sexy." "Thanks, and this old girl really means thanks, I don't get too many compliments these days. But I am your mother and you are my son. And we have a play to put on and it's far too late for either of us to pull out. We have a week of solid rehearsals -- and you know Maggie's not happy with that final scene -- then another week of performance. We've got to get through that as actors. You won't get to bed every woman you bed on the stage. Not with professionals, and that's what we've got to be. "Any touch, kiss or caress in the play is between Cynthia Smythe and Tony Ladbrooke. Can we keep it that way?" "I guess we'll have to, Cynthia." He grinned at the use of my character's name. "But you're much nicer than Cynthia -- god, isn't she the pretentious, selfish cow?" "Can't argue with that." I ruffled his hair, knowing he would protest playfully. "Gerroff," he pushed my hand away. "Leave me alone. Go on, you're late for work." We were good friends again as we walked to the church hall that evening. Maggie told us to get ready for the final scene but to wrap up as she wanted to work for a while on the third scene and we weren't in that. Then it was our turn and we just couldn't satisfy her right from the off. Maggie had us trying different body positions, different movements but still she wasn't happy. "Stop, stop, stop," she called wearily. "Cynthia, you been chasing Tony for days, plotting and scheming to get him into your bedroom. Now your latest trophy is on your hook and you're a predator toying with its prey and you've got the hots for him, not like a mother hen clucking over her chick. "Tony, you're in the bedroom of a sexy, sophisticated woman. She's not a shop mannequin, she's real hot flesh and she's giving you the come-on and you're a horny as hell virgin. But you're also timid and a bit overwhelmed. See how it goes. "OK, Cynthia, put your blouse back on and we'll take it from there. Let's go ..." she clapped her hands imperiously. I replaced my blouse for the umpteenth time, nodded to my son and tried to get into the mind of my character. I stood tall, with my legs slightly apart aggressively. Thrusting my hips forward I said my lines, "Thank you so much Tony. You've been very sweet." "You're welcome, Mrs Smythe. Anytime." But the shy young man in front of me seemed to wilt in my gaze as I advanced towards him slowly, deliberately opening the four buttons on my blouse. "How can I thank you?" I allowed the blouse to float off my shoulders and down my arms, catching it in one hand just before it fell away. I smiled at him thinly. "I'll just have to find some way." I stepped up close to my trophy and looped the blouse round his neck, catching the loose end. "I er think er I should go now Mrs Smythe," he stuttered as I pulled his reluctant body forward a couple of steps. "Please, call me Cynthia. I mean we're friends now, Tony. You can hold me, darling." I made it sound almost like an order. I pulled him closer then held him almost at arms length as I pushed my bosom out towards him. "Are we friends Mrs er Cynthia?" He put one hand on my upper arm and the other on my hip. "Truly friends?" Then I felt his hand jerkily start moving upwards. Oh no, he wouldn't dare, I thought. He'll stop before he ... But Cynthia just said, "I admit I haven't always been nice to you, but now we're friends. Let me make it up." And with that his hand jerked right up to cup the bottom of my breast. His mother ignored it but Cynthia's eyes lit up in a triumphant smile. "Yes, keep it like that," Maggie called then came over to talk to us privately. "That was great," she said to us both, then to Rob she continued, "I like the initial timidity and that final nervous reach but a virgin boy would make a grab for the breast. She took hold of his hand, placed it firmly on my breast and pressed his fingers in. Perhaps she then remembered who we were because she hastily pulled his hand away and apologised, "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have done that." She looked away embarrassed. Rob and I looked at each other. "Tony Ladbrooke is OK with that. How about you?" he said. "No problem for Cynthia Smythe. Maggie, we talked this over this morning and agreed that we are just actors playing a part. Right, Rob?" "S'right, Mum." "If you're both happy, can we do it that way. Try again, just that final clinch." Maggie stepped back and motioned us to continue. "Please, call me Cynthia. I mean we're friends now, Tony. You can hold me, darling." I made it sound almost like an order. I pulled him closer then held him almost at arms length as I pushed my bosom out towards him. "Are we friends Mrs er Cynthia?" He put one hand on my upper arm and the other on my hip. "Truly friends?" Then I felt his hand jerkily start moving upwards. "I admit I haven't always been nice to you but yes, now we're friends. Let me make it up." As Cynthia was saying that, his hand moved right onto her bust and curled motionless over it. "Grab at it. It's the first tit you've held since you were a baby," ordered Maggie although she was not usually so crude. His grip tightened on my 'tit' until Maggie called, "Good. Again ..." so we took our positions. This time on cue Tony grabbed Cynthia's breast and started kneading it. "Keep it like that," said Maggie as she retreated to her favourite chair and told us to put on our robes against the chill and join her. 'Keep it like that' was Maggie's sign that she was happy. "Rob, I want Tony to keep that fire built up inside. You help out here, Cynthia. Back right off him while you're telling him your side of the horse brasses saga, leave him panting. Then tease him in your lines about the cow pat. See what I mean: In, out, in, out. Play with your toy. He's yours to take any time you like. Then he'll be ready for the chase." Pivotal Points Ch. 02 Author's preamble: This story contains descriptions of a sexually explicit nature, consenting mother/son. Both participants are over 18 years of age. The story line and characters are entirely fictional: any similarities are purely coincidental. If such material is illegal in your current location, please click away from this page without reading further. If the nature of this story is offensive to you in any way to, you may feel more comfortable with other stories available on this site. Enjoy the story and please respect copyright. -oOo- My son, Rob, had almost completed his first year at RADA and soon he would be back with me for the long summer break. We had had only a brief two weeks to share our love before he flew the nest and, although he had come home for Christmas and Easter, his visits were far too brief and I looked forward to having him home and in my bed for two months and more. A couple of days before Rob was due, I received a visit from Maggie who was the director of the plays put on by Pinchley Amateur Dramatic Society; we had become friends as I tried to fill my loneliness without Rob. We swapped the local scandals and gossip over tea and biscuits then, out of the blue, Maggie hit me with a question, "Did you and Robbie become lovers, Alex, after Cynthia's Secrets? I mean you did get to grope each other quite a lot." I froze for a couple of seconds but saw no hostility or condemnation in her smile. "What did you just say?" I responded with simulated indignation, to buy myself time. "Alex," she said reassuringly, "the reason I'm a good director is that I see the little things that others miss. I've seen you when you talk about him and the look on your face is more than a mother missing her son. And I've seen you both together. His, and your, casual touches have an air of intimacy. But I'm neither judging nor condemning you. Strictly between us, my father and I were lovers from when I turned eighteen and even now he sometimes joins me and Jake, my husband." I took a deep breath, "You will remember that raunchy last act. Well, Rob and I re-enacted that back home and it just went from there. Rob is a young man buzzing with the hormones of his age, and I was a frustrated middle-aged woman ... It happened." I smiled and sighed as I remembered our first time. "You know that Jake is in the theatre business? He owns a company, which specialises in 'adult' drama, with him directing. Would you and Robbie like to feature in one? Jake pays his actors generously, by the way." Even now, I don't know why I didn't just say 'No' there and then. Instead, I heard myself asking, "Just what would that entail? What would Jake have us doing for this 'generous' pay?" "As I said, they are adult productions so, well you would not be wearing that corset you wore for Cynthia's Secrets, at least not for long; they can be very explicit. Why don't you and Robbie talk it over, then come to our place for dinner on Saturday, Jake will fill you in. We think you would both do very well in adult theatre." My mind was in turmoil for the next couple of days. Could I, would I, do it? My mind did not reject the idea and my body became a little tingly with the thought of 'doing it' in public. Should I mention it to Rob when he came, or leave it to Maggie and Jake? Rob arrived on Wednesday afternoon, looking as beautiful as ever. He gave a low whistle at my dress. I had debated with myself about what to wear to greet my son and lover. My first thought was to wear just that famous corset but I realised it was just a little frustrating to remove quickly. Or should I welcome him with a kiss wearing just a bra and panties. I had been shopping in anticipation and bought some sinful underwear. Eventually I decided to wear the tiniest thong I could find - I had already undergone some serious bikini waxing - a half-cup bra, which gave my bosom a lovely cleavage and a semi-transparent summer dress, open a couple of buttons to reveal a goodly portion of that cleavage. "Wow, Mum, you look gorgeous." He stepped close and gave me a bear hug, lifting me off my feet as he squeezed me. He set me down again, wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled me into a face-eating kiss which had my toes curling. "So what do you want to do today? Have you anything planned? We can go to the Golden Dragon if you like. That's a new Chinese opened a couple of months ago and they say it's good." He held me away from his body, and that bulge I felt forming in his groin, and looked me up and down a couple of times. I could almost read the lascivious thoughts in his mind as he settled his gaze on my face. "I don't want Chinese," he said with a grin. "I'm eating at home tonight, and guess what's on the menu." One hand moved to my heaving bosom and the other migrated to my crotch. "But right now I just want a nice refreshing shower and an equally nice cup of tea." "Take your bags upstairs and I'll put a quick stew in the oven, you'll be hungry later, and brew a pot. Then come back to me. I want to hear all about RADA." Rob gave me a quick kiss and was off, his hand lingering on my waist as he drew away. I heard him moving about upstairs as I quickly threw the makings of a stew in the pot and set it in a slow oven. I had a feeling that we might lose track of time in the next couple of hours. Certainly that was my hope and intention. I was almost shivering with excitement. After I had brewed the tea, I put a cosy on the pot and made my way upstairs as I could hear the shower splashing. I couldn't wait for him to finish and come back to me. The bathroom door was wide open, a clear invitation that I would be welcome. I stood there looking at the shadow of my son behind the opaque curtain, admiring the blurred lines of his trim, tall body. I went in and pulled the curtain to one side, flinching a little at the spray bouncing off his body. My dress was getting damp but I had no care for that. Rob had his back to me, facing into the stream. The foam was slipping from his shoulders, down his back and coating his bum. Rob turned around, squeegying the water from his face with his hands. He opened his eyes and twitched a little when he saw me standing there. Then a welcoming smile hit his face. "I didn't hear you come in," he said, turning this way and that to rinse himself. "That's OK, I was enjoying the view." As I watched, I enjoyed the view even more as his penis grew before my eyes. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into the shower stall. "Come and get a closer look." He pulled me close and I could feel my clothes getting soaked. My frock would be almost totally see-through. "Eek," I shrieked and resisted briefly his attempt to kiss me. "My dress is getting wet." He kissed me anyway, one hand snaking down to my groin and massaging me down there. He pulled back from the kiss, grinned and commented, "You're already wet down here and that has nothing to do with the shower." I started the next kiss as he pulled me into his body. I felt his hard lump between us and slowly sank to my knees, oblivious now to the stream of water sluicing over us. His cock was at full mast and bobbing invitingly on my face. I opened wide and sucked the flesh loving into my mouth. I felt just so goddam nasty, here I was fully dressed in the shower with my naked son and wantonly gobbling his weapon like there was no tomorrow. My son must have been feeling just as lusty because he soon took charge of my head and fucked my face, pulling me on until I was almost gagging. I felt the tension in him build and it didn't take many more strokes before my mouth was bathed in his sweet seed and I held him there until his final pulse. I felt his legs start to tremble after the exhaustion even of such a quickie. He sank to his knees in front of me. "Thanks Mum. I needed that." I didn't reply as my mouth was full. I pulled his mouth to mine and shared the harvest I had reaped. This had become a big turn on for us both and he quickly thrust his tongue past mine to savour his share. The kiss was a long, lingering, thorough mutual exploration that was ended by the shower cutting off. We had drained the static tank and we soon became chilled. Clinging to each other, we stood up then Rob unbuttoned my dress, struggling to pop the buttons through the wet holes. Eventually he was able to fling it in the corner of the shower and, as he was crouching before me to reach the last button, he removed my shoes then my tights and panties, kissing my pussy briefly before standing up. My breasts felt relieved as they were finally loosed from their cage. The bra was one cup size too small because I fell in love with it and they didn't have my size. It pushed me up and out even more but felt tight until Rob unhooked me. He grabbed two towels and we dried each other off with much groping and fondling. Rob insisted on drying between my legs several times because I was leaking so much. My pussy had started to get wet as I was dressing myself earlier that afternoon and hadn't stopped. We threw the damp towels on top of my soaking clothes and I said, half in jest hoping he would say 'No', "Still want that cuppa?" His eyes lit up so I couldn't refuse him even though my body was hungry for his. Still unconcernedly naked, we returned to the kitchen and sat next to each other at the table, drinking our not-too-cool tea and spare hands wandering where they would. I could feel my wetness making my chair seat slick. I was almost shivering with want as he drank his tea, not slowly but not rushing. Finally, he drained his cup, kissed me softly, sexily, then led me upstairs to the big double bed in my room and had me lying on the bed, legs spread wide. I welcomed him between them, whispering, "Don't mess about, Rob. Just fuck me and fuck me hard." I had scarcely drawn breath when I felt his hardness sliding into my haven. Oh god, he was like a machine, banging into my pussy. Exactly what I needed and before I could take a ragged gasp of breath or two I lost track of time as my whole body exploded and my mind scattered through space and time. When I returned to Planet Earth, Rob was still there inside me, now slowly stroking in and out so I just lay there with my eyes closed for a couple of minutes, enjoying those little after-shocks rippling past. Eventually I opened my eyes to see his deep brown eyes looking right back at me. His face wore a arrogant smile. "Did you enjoy that?" he asked. "You seemed ready for it." His smile turned into a cheeky grin as he ground into me with a circular motion which was lighting small bush fires inside me. "Oh yes, Rob, that was exactly what I needed." Propping himself up on his left hand, and maintaining those delicious strokes, he took a firm grip on my breast and started to knead it like it was a lump of dough. Now my nipples are very sensitive, as my son and lover well knew, but sometimes a mauling of my whole breast is what I wanted. This was one such time, almost as if he could read me. He switched to my right breast and gave that the same treatment before he laid himself atop my body and took my left nipple into his mouth, all the time squeezing my right breast and slipping his tool excitingly in and out of my passage. He kept this slow, tantalising rhythm, occasionally swapping breasts, for a heavenly age then almost imperceptibly, his speed increased, as did the treatment of my breasts. My hips matched his rhythm as I pushed myself up to meet his incoming plunges and as he quickened, I realised he was close to coming so I thrust back at him even harder. I was getting close, too. Suddenly he left my breast unattended as his hand pushed between us and his thumb and forefinger clamped down on my clitoris and my rockets fired again with a throbbing I was aware of, even from my orbit, as being Rob's sperm pulsing deep into my womb. All I could do was cling to him, trapping his hand, still rotating my nub, between us. I felt him collapse and all movement ceased. I was happy to bear his weight; it helped me come down from the heights so I just hugged him softly until he regained strength. His tool slowly softened and left me feeling bereft as it finally plopped out, followed by our combined juices which I felt oozing across my anus and pooling beneath me. In due course I felt him stir and soon he heaved himself off my body. Lying on his side facing me, his hand stroked my body from face to knees and back in a circular fashion. "I love you, Mum," he said quietly. "I love you too, son," I replied. I stroked his cheek then leant in to kiss him tenderly. We stayed next to each other cherishing and being cherished with gentle caresses for, oh I don't know, maybe an hour. Then I gave him a hug and said, "That food should be ready. Let's go and refuel." But even I was reluctant to leave that warm nest. We were both sticky and messy so we called in the bathroom to clean up a little. I sat on the toilet and emptied my bladder while he was sponging his groin right next to me. I had never 'gone to the bathroom' in his presence before but it just seemed so natural. He told me not to waste a flush when I was finished and his stream splashed into the bowl while I washed up. I do admit checking his equipment out; I just can't see too much of the tool I worship, even flaccid as it was. Beautiful. Our meal, when we returned to the kitchen, was a slow, loving affair. We had not bothered with clothes. We fed each other, casually fondling and touching as we caught up on our gossip. I asked if he had a girlfriend yet, although with just a tinge of jealousy. But when he left, almost a year ago, I knew he was a randy 18 year-old and it wouldn't be fair to ask him to be a monk while he was living far from home. He told me he had had a couple of girls back for a night or two but nothing serious either way. "Then Jenny and I got together one evening while we were watching TV." Rob lived in a shared house within easy reach of the Academy. His house-friends were Jenny, a fellow student, and Penny and Pat. They were both students at different colleges. The four of them had got together within a month of that first term. Jenny, Pat and Rob were all 18 but Penny had a year off caring for her dying father before starting uni so was 19. "Penny and Patrick had started sleeping together a couple of weeks prior to that evening. That night they were going to a party but Jenny and I had decided to stay home and watch some telly so on the way home, Jenny picked up pizza while I got a couple of bottles of 'el cheapo' wine which we both liked. We watched a couple of soaps, a nature programme and planned on watching a rom/com dvd she had borrowed. Jenny took the remains of the pizza away as I opened the second bottle of wine and loaded the dvd. She put the living room lights out but left the kitchen light on so the lighting was dim, then curled up next to me sipping at her wine. I started the movie and settled back into my seat with Jenny leaning onto me, head on my shoulder with my arm looped behind her to rest on her shoulder. "I looked down at her face as she looked up to mine. 'Comfortable?' I asked. She smiled, nodded, snuggled in and we turned to the pictures flickering before us. "Well," Rob continued, "Let's just say we've been sleeping together since." We had been kissing and cuddling as he told me his romantic story and that's how I felt now, soft and romantic. I kissed him softly and said, "I've got another Hugh Grant rom/com in the drawer. How about we watch that together and you can tell me what led you to bed." He kissed me back, squeezed my breast and stood up. I was grateful to move: those kitchen chairs were a little bit hard. We decided to put some loose clothing on and light the coal-effect gas fire against the chill of the evening then we sat down with all the lights out except a single lamp on the table in the window. I decided next time I would have a couple of candles burning. I snuggled into Rob as he had described Jenny doing as we watched the movie. We turned the sound down so we could just hear what was happening as I asked him to tell me the rest of his story. "Well, we were sitting like this when the movie started. Her hair smelled of open countryside and so soft against my face. After about maybe ten minutes she moved her arm around me and cuddled in. She was almost purring. Her jumper felt so soft and warm to my touch, I found myself stroking her shoulder as she stroked up and down my side beneath her hand. She reached out after a few minutes and finished her glass of wine. I did the same and shared the rest of the bottle between our glasses." All the time he had been talking, my movements copied Jenny's "Before we settled back again, Jenny took my head in her hands," he continued, "and gave me a sweet kiss, mouth to mouth but soft and gentle. Then we sat down and made ourselves comfortable. She was lying on her side facing partially aside as she guided my hand to her breast." Of course I took the opportunity of kissing Rob myself, as sweet and gentle as you like, my mouth partly open but not demanding, then made sure he could feel my breast as we continued to watch the movie. "That was a nice loving time as her hand was stroking my thigh, getting closer to my tool which was pretty hard by now. I thrilled to her touch as she held my tool for a second or two and squeezed." Yes, I still copied her actions as I felt Rob's hard tool through his jeans. After that he never really got round to finish his tale, just acted it out on me. He had me sit up and slowly removed my tee-shirt, hands happily exploring the flesh beneath. When it was off he lifted his arms and his tee followed mine. He smiled, "You're not wearing a bra. It would have been nice to take it off." "Improvise," I chuckled with a casual shrug. He wrapped his arms round me and gave me a big hug then took a breast in each hand, cupping and lifting them as if to weigh them. Slowly he started fondling them for a while before standing up, beckoning me to do the same. He found my zipper then got on his knees and removed my skirt. He looked up and smiled at me when he saw my French cut knickers. The blue satin, I was sure, had a large dark patch centred on my crotch. Slowly the satin was pulled down my legs removed and put to one side. He took hold of my hips and pressed his face onto my pussy and kissed briefly. Raising himself a little he pressed a tender kiss on my navel and another on each hard nipple. Standing fully, he kissed both my ears, both my eyes, the tip of my nose and oh so tenderly onto my lips. I returned his kiss in like manner then felt him push down on my shoulders. I went to my knees and kissed the bulge under his jeans before removing them. I looked up and smiled at him when I saw he was commando fashion. I took both his testicles and kissed them in turn then kissed up his solid tool. I wanted to take it into my mouth but I rationed myself to a kiss on the head and savouring the jewel on the tip. I moved up his body, making all the erogenous stops on the way. My final kiss was more urgent than his had been but that seemed OK with him. He was by then cupping my tit and pinching the nipple and returning my kiss with even more passion. We both knew where we were going but I was happy to let him take me by the scenic route. A little breathless, I broke off our kiss and started nibbling his ear. I moved onto his neck, fluttering butterfly kisses and used the tip of my tongue to trace wetly down his neck and into the hollow where neck and shoulder met. I felt Rob shudder just a fraction as he held me close to the hard lump between us, cupping and massaging my bum cheeks. I ran my fingers lightly over his upper chest before stooping a little to use my lips and tongue and turning the fine hairs to darken and clump together. Pivotal Points Ch. 02 His nipples received lots of attention as I licked, sucked and nibbled at them. I had to bend a little further for the nipples which caused Rob's hands to leave my bum and slowly travel up my sides, his nails scraping gently on my skin until they reach my breasts which he continued to scratch over the swells of flesh to my nipples. We both sank down to the rug in front of the fire where Rob put me on my back and knelt between my spread legs. He kissed me down there and I felt his tongue sliding up my lips, lapping at my freely flowing juices. His fingers parted my labia and again his tongue went to work, causing me to lift my hips wanting more. The tip of his tongue penetrated my hole briefly, frustratingly, before resuming the slow licking of my pussy. He eased my clitoris hood open and, with a thumb on each side of the sensitive nub, he had me moaning and heaving as he manipulated my hard lump then I felt his tongue penetrate me slowly as he started fucking me with it. One of his hands left my clitoris and I felt a finger rubbing round my rosebud. He had never shown any interest in that hole before but it felt nice and I was on heat and feeling myself getting closer to the point of no return. It was the tip of his finger piercing my anus which gave me a shattering orgasm and I was only just aware of his tongue pushing in and out, one finger manipulating my clitoris and the tip of his other finger going in and out of my anus. From a great distance I could hear myself calling his name over and over as my body was exploding around his face and hands. His movements slowed and eventually ceased as he gently brought me back to sanity. I put my hands to his head and pulled it up towards my face. I so desperately wanted to kiss my lover and as he came up I saw his whole face was glistening with my secretions and as we shared a face-eating kiss I could taste myself in his mouth. I felt his manhood pressing at the slick entrance to my pussy and he slid it all the way in, penetrating me to my depths. He started a long, slow gentle rhythm of in and out movements, seeming in no hurry as he kissed all over my face. I didn't want his heavenly movements to stop as I felt my body responding to the internal massage. Then his movements speeded up and I knew he was near his own climax so I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in as I pushed back until our pubic bones were crashing together. "Alex, oh Alex," he called breathily, "I'm coming, Yes ohhhh yes." He held himself deep inside me and jerked several times as I felt his seed pulsing into me and that lit the spark in my own body as waves of joy filled me. All I could do was hold him tightly with my arms and legs until our panting breaths returned to normal. I relaxed my grip and my legs fell back to the bed; I loved that gentle time while his weight rested on my body as we both recovered until he finally rolled off me, put one arm under my neck and the other round my body over one breast and under the other as he hugged me. I turned my face to him and we both breathed our thanks before he pecked my nose and gave me a sweet kiss. Rob reached up and retrieved our wine glasses, still half full, so we sat up on the rug, leaning back onto the sofa as we sipped at the drink. I welcomed the soothing liquid in my dry mouth and the warmth of the fire radiating over my body. My son put his arm round my shoulders and hugged me. We kissed gently, lovingly, for an age as we sipped our wine until our glasses were drained. I missed him for the couple of minutes it took him to get another bottle of wine, filled our glasses again and resumed his place in front of the fire. After a few silent minutes my thoughts turned to Maggie's strange invitation and now seemed a good time to my lover. "Rob," I began. "Yes Alex?" "You've never called me that before." "It just felt right, Mum. Sorry." "No, that's fine, I love it. You can call me 'Alex' any time. But shush a minute. Maggie came round the other day, you know we often have a cup of tea together, and she invited us to her place for dinner on Saturday." "Mmm, that sounds good." I took a deep breath, exhaled it slowly and whispered, "Do you know her husband puts on private dramas in his small theatre?" "I didn't know that. I didn't even know he had his own theatre." I could see in his face that he was wondering where this conversation was going. "Well, apparently both Maggie and he feel you and I could do well in his productions. But his private showings are, apparently, very explicitly erotic. No, Rob, I haven't told her about us, I haven't breathed a word to anyone, but she guessed we are lovers. Don't worry, she has her own reasons not to be shocked about incest." I paused for a few seconds to allow him time to digest this information as he almost absentmindedly caressed my breast. "If we are interested, Jake will tell us everything on Saturday." "What do you think Mum, Alex?" The kneading of my breast continued with a little more urgency. My hand was tucked between his legs, just under his scrotum. His tool which was resting on my hand definitely twitched. I took it in my hand and felt it slowly begin to swell. I squeezed it gently and asked, "Is this telling me you like the idea?" He pinched my nipple which was already engorged. "Does this tell me you want to?" We both pondered the question without either of us answering. Seeing the easy way for us to take that step, I whispered, "Let's just wait until Saturday and hear what they have to say." ... to be continued. I welcome your votes and comments. Pivotal Points Maggie turned to the rest of the group and said she wouldn't need them any further tonight. Some stayed on and rehearsed their lines over in the corner but most packed up and left. Somebody made us all a coffee as Maggie expanded on how she saw the rest of the scene developing and it was a totally new departure. Were we happy making the scene very erotic with lots of close contact? She asked. Rob looked at me and nodded so I told Maggie we could do it. When we had finished our coffee Maggie told us to start from the bedroom door and we'd run through right to the end. But of course it wasn't that easy. The convoluted plot had various members of the cast knocking on the door at critical points in the seduction to give Cynthia news of the outrageous happenings around the swimming pool -- happenings that Cynthia had deliberately set up. Maggie supplied all the interruptions but she wanted increasingly frustrated emotion from Cynthia as she had to pop her head round the bedroom door to answer them. We worked on and on into the night until we finally ran through the full scene to Maggie's satisfaction. The whole scene had been transformed from a comic caper into a steamy, almost pornographic, seduction which made the contrast of the ridiculous interruptions even more hilarious. Maggie called it a day and gave us a lift back to our place. She wanted to get home so she refused my offer of tea or coffee but I made a cuppa for me and Rob and we sat dunking biscuits and talking through that last scene. I complimented him on his restraint this evening. He hadn't done anything more than Maggie told him and hadn't tried to take any advantage. "No problem, Mum. It's not Cynthia I fancy." He stood up, bent and kissed me on the lips, but chastely. "It's you!" Then he went to his room leaving me staring into my empty teacup. But I couldn't discern my future in the dregs. The next night Maggie had us do that final scene again with the rest of the cast knocking on that door. The others had seen just the start of the scene from last night and there were several gasps from them as each erotic move was introduced and laughed at the high camp of the interruptions. When Tony and Cynthia pulled the bedclothes over their heads, the whole cast burst into spontaneous applause -- but it wasn't for us, it was for Maggie's skill as the director and she bowed in appreciation. The week passed quickly and advanced ticket sales seemed to be better than usual. Maybe that's because we all decided we didn't want kids in the audience because of that last scene. So the tickets and posters advertised 'Adults only'. Opening night went off with few hitches and the local paper printed a brilliant review next day. The critic wrote, "... intrigued when I saw 'Adults only' emblazoned across the posters at the door. Pilkerton's seminal bedroom farce is more farce and less bedroom ... playing Tony Ladbrooke, was a bundle of energy whose pranks had me wiping tears from my eyes ... Cynthia Smythe's convoluted scheming was convincingly portrayed ... well choreographed moves kept disaster just at bay ... playing Rodney Smythe, was a little out on his timing but the rest of the cast ... Maggie Forsythe's unique interpretation will raise many an eyebrow in literary circles ... it shouldn't have worked, but it did ... unusual casting of a mother and her son ... a delectable huntress trapping her frightened prey ... raw passion which even the offstage pandemonium couldn't quench ... truly an 'Adults only' night to remember." For the rest of the week we played to standing room only and after the final performance we had a party on the stage to celebrate. By the end of the night we'd all had a few drinks, me to the tune of four large glasses of wine but I think Rob nursed just the one can of beer all night. He's not a big drinker. We sat together most of the time, I think we were both too tired to mix very much but we kept our ends up in the main conversations. At one stage Rob turned away to talk to one of the minor characters in the play and I became lost in my own thoughts. I was feeling a little sad. This was Rob's last play here and soon he would be leaving home and going to the big city. I would miss him, the house will be empty after the way he uses up space. I would miss working with him at PADS, he's very good. Never misses a cue and quick to rescue his partner's slips. I would miss his characters from village bobby to chinless wonder to shy virgin. Yes, I thought, I'll miss this play, I've enjoyed it, even having Tony feeling Cynthia's breasts. No, he, my son Rob, was feeling my breasts, I couldn't keep hiding from it. And I liked it, so there, I thought to myself petulantly. A delicious shiver ran through me. Yes, I enjoyed him touching my body, my breasts. But it had been Tony who was touching me and I had detected no signs of arousal in Rob. Come to think of it I don't know how he controlled himself when I was now all of a quiver. What if -- my thoughts seemed to be shying away from the question but it kinda slipped in sideways anyhow -- what if it were Rob, not Tony? It was out. I had named the unspeakable and I knew I was at one of those pivotal points in life. What if it were Rob? This thought kept turning over and over in my mind. What if ... what if ... "Taxi's on the way, Mum." Rob broke my chain of thoughts. "What? Oh, yeah." I was a bit groggy both from the wine and that semi-trance I had been in. "Help me up." "You OK, Mum?" he asked as he pulled. "Sure. Give me a minute to gather my head. Let's get our things together." We had just about finished our farewell tour of hugs, air kisses and goodbye darling's when the taxi driver hooted outside. We didn't have much to say on the short ride home and I was alone with my thoughts again. What if ...? I paid the driver off and we went inside. "Have we anything to drink?" I asked. "We've got a couple of beers or some vodka," he called back, peering into the fridge. "Pour me a vodka and orange please, son." "Coming up." He returned with identical glasses for each of us. I finished mine in two gulps, thrust the glass at Rob and said, "Do me another, please. I've got to pop upstairs for a few minutes." I still hadn't quite made my mind up as I closed the bathroom door. What if ...? It was as I relieved my bladder that I came to the decision. What if ...? OK, let's see what if ... what if it were Rob feeling my body. I cleaned myself up, went to my bedroom and put on my costume for the final act of "Cynthia's Secrets" and took a deep breath. I opened the bedroom door and called out, "Be a dear and bring our drink up here." A few seconds later he was in my bedroom. I closed the door and stood with my back to it. I held out my hand for the drink and took a big gulp then told him to put the glasses on my bedside table. When he had done that he turned to look at me dressed as Cynthia. "Can we do that last scene one more time, please?" I asked. I didn't know if it was Rob or Tony who looked back at me nervously. I stood tall, with my legs slightly apart aggressively. Thrusting my hips forward I said my lines, "Thank you so much Rob. You've been very sweet." "You're welcome, Mrs Smythe. Anytime. But my name's Tony." The shy young man in front of me seemed to wilt in my gaze as I advanced towards him slowly, deliberately opening the four buttons on my blouse. "How can I thank you?" I allowed the blouse to float off my shoulders and down my arms, catching it in one hand just before it fell away. I smiled at him thinly. "I'll just have to find some way." I stepped up close to my trophy and looped the blouse round his neck, catching the loose end. "I er think er I should go now Mrs Smythe," he stuttered as I pulled his reluctant body forward a couple of steps. "Please, call me Mum. I mean we're friends now, Rob. You can hold me, darling." I made it sound almost like an order. I pulled him closer then held him almost at arms length as I pushed my bosom out towards him. "Are we friends Mrs er Mum?" He put one hand on my upper arm and the other on my hip. "Truly friends?" Then I felt his hand jerkily start moving upwards. I held my breath for a moment and breathed my line, "I admit I haven't always been nice to you, but now we're friends Rob. Let me make it up." His hand covered my breast and manipulated it lovingly, not like Tony's immature groping. I then knew that it was my son -- and we both knew where we were heading. But to get back to the play ... I let go of one end of my blouse and dragged it slowly from his neck. Taking his wrist between my thumb and fingertips, I moved his hand from my breast, holding it away from me almost in disdain as I stepped back. "Slowly, Rob. First I need to tell you why I've seemed cruel." "Er, what ...? He looked perplexed, unsure. Dropping his hand, I stepped back a pace and stood in my original pose, my bosom heaving. "I have to confess it was I who put Mr Johnson's horse brasses in your cricket bag." I ran my hands over my body, squeezing my breasts then continuing down to caress my bottom as I turned slightly to let him see the action. "That was you, Mrs, Mum?" "Yes, but I knew you could easily prove your alibi so I knew you wouldn't get into too much trouble." I advanced again, pushing my body into his and forcing him back until his knees were against the bed. "I needed the diversion, to have Mr Johnson out of the way." A thrust of my bosom caught him off balance, making him sit on the bed. Hitching my skirt up, I sat astride his legs and slowly began opening the buttons down his summer shirt. "You did look so funny when you went down in that cow pat." I ran my hands over his bare chest. "But I'm sorry I laughed at you." I was slipping his shirt off his shoulders when, just on cue, Rob rapped his knuckles against the bed frame -- this was the way we simulated the knocks on the door in rehearsal, the knocks which brought all those comic interludes. I stood up, feeling frustrated, as I walked to the door, opened it and stuck my head. I didn't bother with the conversation, closed the door again and turned to see Rob with hands in his lap hiding an erection, with his arms still hampered by the shirt just as Maggie had instructed, and ready for the next part. "M,Mum," he stuttered -- and I was glad he hadn't used C,Cynthia -- "I do believe you distracted me so I would slip on it." I sat next to him and, as I untangled his arms from his shirt I noticed that the erection was real. He wore a very tight fitting swimming costume under his shorts 'just in case' but the bulge was noticeable close up, and I was pleased because he had always been so under control on stage. "Now why would I have done that?" I turned his head to kiss him. Instead of the usual seemingly active but very chaste kiss, I thrust my tongue through his unresisting lips and put my passion into it. Knock, knock. I had to stifle a groan as I smiled sweetly at him. "Don't go away, I'll be back in a minute." I repeated my mute performance at the door and now he still had hands in his lap but was squirming in his seat. I returned to him but sat at arm's length from him and he looked at me with desire in his eyes. Maggie had told us this was where Cynthia would be 'backed off' and aloof, untouchable. I sat there arranging and smoothing my skirt as I delivered one of Cynthia's funniest speeches, interspersed with my giggles. It was the rambling monologue of her side of the prank she had earlier played on the Dean. "I don't think the Dean was laughing, Mum." "Oh, you silly boy," I gushed. I leaned over and very slowly walked my fingers from his knee, up his thigh in the direction of his groin. "That was the whole point, Rob. The Dean has had it coming for years. He has been perfectly beastly to me. Come on, Rob. You can be nice to me, can't you?" My fingers were just about to move onto his very private area when ... Knock, knock. Jeez, I knew the frustration Cynthia must have felt, had the play been real. I stood and turned to answer it. I finished my 'business' at the door and returned to him. I now stood astride his legs, my thighs clamping his together. I pulled his head into my bosom and kept his nose in my cleavage. "I do hope, Mum, you'll never take after me like you did after the Dean" His voice was somewhat muffled by my flesh. "Oh no, my dear Rob. I have much better plans for you." I pulled him to his feet and running my hands down his bare chest, I sank to my knees in front of him. "Much better!" I was drooling as I said that to his crotch. I put my hands on the waistband of his slacks, moving towards the buttons when he pushed me away and stepped sideways, away from me, hiding his crotch as though too embarrassed to let me see. I clutched at him as he retreated but only managed to grab a handful of material which didn't hinder him. I lunged again, now determined to have him, but again he danced away. This was the beginning of our hectic pursuit around the bedroom. At first it was me chasing him all round and over the bed, he lost both his sandals to my despairing snatches and still I couldn't catch him. Until we found ourselves on opposite sides of the bed. We stared at each other, panting from our exertions and passion, my bosom heaving, almost threatening to burst forth from its confines. Suddenly the look in his eyes changed. He snarled at me, baring his teeth then dived across the bed but I just managed to escape. Then it was me being chased in the course of which he ripped my skirt off -- one of those props garments that parts with a good tug. Again we faced each other but now it was I who hid my crotch behind my hands, glad this time for Maggie's instructions because I'm sure there was a dark wet patch down there. I'm sure his erection must have be painful, strapped down as it was I started the next lunge and managed to grab the waist of his slacks. "Got you this time, young Mister Rob. Now we'll see what you're made of." His playful struggles became more feeble and I was able to get his slacks in a pile round his feet and was licking my lips at the crotch of his red silk boxers ... Knock, knock. "Oh, no." My exasperation was unfeigned. How could he do this to me, although we hadn't deviated from Maggie's directions and I should have known it was coming. I answered the door knowing it was the final interruption when all my grand scheming would come together. The off-stage conversation had me jumping up and down and wriggling with excitement so my generous bum jigged about a lot. I knew Rob would be ogling it I closed the door with a look of triumph on my face. "That despicable tradesman: did he think he could insult me with impunity? He's ruined and now his estate will be mine." Clapping my hands together softly, I raised my eyes in the general direction of heaven. "Perfect," I exulted. "What a simply perfect day, don't you know, Rob. And the final prize is best of all." I advanced and held him close. Our kiss was real and full of passion. As we slipped under the bedclothes Rob groaned, "Oh Mum," and placed his hand on my breast, squeezing passionately. "Yes Rob. Yes." My hand went down to his groin, seeking the bulge pressing into my thigh. We didn't come out for the curtain calls. But here we met a further frustrating distraction: we hadn't realised just how constraining our underwear was. From the frantic scrabbling at my breast I knew he wanted to hold the real flesh, not hindered by the armour plating of my foundation garment and I was equally frustrated by his swim costume. "Let's get undressed," I whispered, kissing him desperately." Flinging the sheets aside we jumped out of bed. He started taking off his boxers but I told him to wait. Although my fingers were trembling with anticipation I somehow managed all those tiny hooks in record time, feeling my breasts and tummy sag a little as the constraints were released. I stepped out of the offending garment and got to my knees to release my son, the aromas from my sex pervaded the air around us. Now I was frantic to see what he had been hiding and hurriedly pulled his shorts down to reveal the white swimming trunks. I found the cords around his hips -- thank god he tied it in a bow -- and pulled them open. His cock had been forced back between his legs and now, released from its prison, it came up like a spring and bounced about my face, leaving streaks of his sticky fluids trailing across my cheek and lips. As I pulled his shorts and trunks off his feet he groaned in relief and started scratching and stretching his scrotum. I took hold of his bobbing tool in both hands, the clean, spicy smell was in my nostrils as my pursed lips kissed the tip and my tongue snaked out to taste his nectar. I took the head slowly into my mouth, my tongue exploring under the foreskin. "Stop, Mum. I'm coming!" he moaned in anguish but I slid my lips down until I felt his tool filling my mouth. I sucked it in and out, flicking the end with my tongue and was rewarded with a jerk of his hips and my mouth being filled with spurt after spurt of his seed. I swallowed as fast as I could, aware that dribbles were escaping down my chin. I sucked and squeezed him dry, savouring the salty tang on my palate. When there was no more to be extracted and the flesh between my lips started softening I stood and kissed him, realising as our lips met that he would taste himself in my mouth. His tongue snaked in, paused briefly then resumed its tag match with my own. We broke the kiss and he cautiously lapped up the remnants of his sperm from my chin. He licked his lips and kissed me again. I guided us both to the bed and pulled him down beside me. His hand went straight to my neglected breasts, seeking the rigid, aching nipples which he squeezed and pulled roughly, sparking electric jolts all the way to my pussy. His mouth descended on one nipple, sucking powerfully, his hands continuing to maul my tits mercilessly as my hand pressed his head hard into the yielding flesh. Oh, I needed something, anything, in my lonely cunt, thrilling at the thought of that crude word. Running my hand over his chest and abdomen and on down, I was pleased to find him once again hard in his manhood. I pulled one hand from my breast and guided it to my humid pussy, gasping as a finger penetrated me. He continued exploring my secret regions, making me jerk each time his hand brushed over my tingling clitoris. A second finger joined the first, twisting and turning inside me, occasionally stimulating my sensitive spot, causing me to hump against his hand. His mouth left off chewing my nipple as he kissed his way wetly down the underside of my breast and on across my rib cage. My fingers replaced his mouth on my nipple and took over the exquisite torture, my body shivered as he laid a warm, wet trail to my navel, his tongue probing there deeply. He moved his body, leaving my breasts to my own manipulations as he spread my thighs wide and knelt between them. Twining his fingers through my dense pubic curls he gently tugged each hand to one side as he used his thumbs to part my slick lips then move up to trap my hypersensitive nodule between them. I felt his warm breath cooling the juices leaking copiously between my legs and whimpered as his tongue licked right up the gap between my engorged labia, gently probing and penetrating until at last his mouth settled over my clitoris. Abandoning my tits, my hands moved to the back of his head. I pulled it hard into my groin, feeling his teeth grating over my clitoris. I clamped my thighs around his head and just held him in place as I gyrated to my own rhythm, feeling the volcano building inside me. "Oh, oh, oh," I panted, wanting release. His marvellous tongue was flicking over my clitoris, further fuelling the fires inside me and when he bit down on my clitoris I just exploded. Wet warmth flooded my pussy as I screamed, "YESYESYESYESYES!!!" and continued to fuck his trapped head selfishly as I thrashed about until I could take no more. Pivotal Points I released my hold on him and his face came up gasping for air but he soon recovered and I encouraged and guided his willing tool to the entrance of my pussy. His prick needed no further coaxing as it slipped easily towards my aching channel. I felt the head part my lips and slide on through, I was gasping as his continued penetration filled the space which had been empty so long. I felt my insides stretch easily to accommodate him and raised my body to meet him. Now he started thrusting, slowly at first but soon hammering in and out. I cared not that he was using me as greedily as I had so recently used him, I matched my rhythm to his, calling words of encouragement and passion into his ear as our pubic bones clashing together. He needed release and my body was eager to have his seed bathe my womb. I wrapped my ankles round his waist and dug my heels into his kidneys. His thrusts became jerky and he grunted in his lust, "I'm coming, Mum. Oooohhhh I'm coming." "Give it to me, son" I panted back, "fill me, fill your Mummy's cunt with your seed, my baby. Come in me now." I felt his body jerking with each spurt that sprayed inside me, briefly re-igniting my flames until he finally collapsed, gasping and spent, onto the soft cushion of my body and I cradled my son where he belonged. I held him there, stroking his hair and dropping butterfly kisses on his forehead and eyes as his breathing returned to normal and his tool slowly softened until it plopped out and hung limply as my lips slowly closed the gap. Our combined juices trickled out of my pussy and oozed unheeded to the growing patch on the sheet beneath. -oOo- I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed the writing of it. Thank you for taking the time to read. Public comments and private messages are always welcomed, as is constructive criticism. You'll find the various contact buttons on this page. If the story and its telling pleased you, I would be grateful for your positive vote, we authors love to see those coveted little icons next to our work. Just click "5" below and don't forget to submit ;-) If you feel it doesn't deserve any praise, please don't record your dissatisfaction with a low vote, just click away: you got it for free, after all :-)