6 comments/ 69148 views/ 3 favorites The First Leaf's Fall By: Artaeus Autumn is such a strange and wondrous time of year. Summer's heat waning into the changing season, while days begin to grow shorter. Some days even feeling a bit like winter, with their nip of frost in the mornings and chilling breezes at night. It was also my first autumn when I wouldn't be going to school. My high school days now behind me, leading into the days of being an adult, leaving me to contemplate what to do with the rest of my life. Fortunately, I was still living at home with my mother. She'd been divorced from my father for some time now, long before I could remember him. After him, there'd been no others, either. Thus, I was without siblings or a true father figure. Of course, one could say that my uncles helped on occasion when I'd get unruly with mother and she'd need a strong hand to smack me back into behaving. Now though, things were different between her and I. We were both adults, both people with lives ahead of us and needing to explore all that it meant to be adult. For me, that meant getting a job, finding a girlfriend and settling down into what would be the rest of my life. Quietly I sat in the kitchen munching on my morning meal. Eyes constantly wandering around as I found myself lost in thought. Captured upon the whims of fancy and fantasy, completely unaware of a presence coming into the kitchen to join me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was aware that someone was speaking to me. Moments later, my eyes found themselves firmly attached to the sight of breasts. Covered, but beautiful and full, filling out the thin robe of ebony silk. Smiling deeply, thinking that I was somehow dreaming, I lifted my gaze upwards to see who was attached to those beautiful mounds of womanly flesh. "Earth to Tyler!" her voice cried out. A jovial tone dancing about every word she spoke as I suddenly realized I had been staring at my mother's breasts. So fascinated by their shape and weight I was, I hadn't even realized that the robe was the one she usually wore during her mornings. "Oh! Um, morning Mom," I quickly replied, glancing back down at my bowl of cereal as I spooned a mouthful up and into my awaiting maw. "Where were you just now?" She asked, moving to sit down across the table from me. "Off in my own little world. Daydreaming really. I mean, I have the whole rest of my life before me, that's a lot to think about." Nodding slowly, I could tell there was something on her mind. Had she caught me staring at her breasts, and wondered if I was some sort of pervert? Hopefully she thought I was just staring off into space, and she happened to walk into that space by pure accident. I would have been lucky if it was the latter. I would have felt horrible if she believed the former. "So, any plans today?" She seemed interested in something. Her eyes darting around my shape as though following a fly or random leaf in the wind. Shrugging lightly, I found my attention drawn once more to her breasts. Her sitting had wound up parting the black fabric of her robe slightly, offering my hungry eyes the barest glimpse of alabaster cleavage to stare at. Something I was incredibly thankful for. "Not going to hang out with any of your friends?" Again I shrugged, trying to prolong this conversation, trying to keep from letting her hear the strain in my voice if I dared speak. I was aware then, that staring at my own mother's breasts had caused a reaction. The typical, "man see tits" reaction. My boxers were tenting fiercely as I shifted about slightly within my chair, trying to keep my hips hidden by the table as much as possible. "Well, I was going to head to the park later today and do a bit of painting. Care to join me? Or would that be too embarrassing?" I felt something stir inside of me. A strange flurry of feelings and thoughts and awareness to the sensations of attraction. My mind racing as quickly as my heart as eyes finally lifted to once more look into her own. The idea of being with her while painting was oddly, arousing. And it made the straining hardness in my boxers all the more uncomfortable. "I suppose I could go," I mumbled around another mouthful of food. I was afraid. Afraid she knew that I was conflicted, that I was stuck within a terrible turmoil that ripped up my insides and made me want to be inside her. I was afraid she was just taunting me into coming with her so that she could ridicule me in public, make a big scene about her son the pervert and have me arrested where everyone could see. Laughing softly, she got back up from the table, moving her way through the kitchen door. Pausing a moment, her head leaned back as she looked at me sitting there. "I could always let you paint me nude!" Then she was gone, bounding upstairs like an African gazelle. I nearly choked on my food in that moment. It was like she had been inside my head the entire time, purposefully teasing me into this excited state of being. So excited I was, that as I shifted in my chair readying to standing up, the head of my achingly hard shaft rubbed against just the right spot in my boxers. Before I could stop it, I moaned out loud, feeling thick streams of my young sperm spilling out against the fabric and running down my length. Within moments, it soaked through, leaving my groin a sticky mess that I desperately needed to clean up. Fortunately, my room was right across from the guest bathroom, which meant that I could run in there, grab some clothes, then make it into the shower without my mother ever noticing the mess her baby had made. An hour later, I was feeling better. Dried off, clean, and dressed for the outdoors, I sat in my bedroom just staring outside. My room was on the back of the house which looked over a wide and pristine lake. Trees of every shape lining either side, blocking away the view of any other houses. I found myself getting lost in thought against when Mother knocked on my open door. I hadn't a moment to spare before she set herself down next to me, looking out at the lake as well. One thing we had been fortunate about, was Mother's parents. They had invested well during various periods of economic booming. As such, they passed on their wealth to us, and we could live quite comfortable in our small, nearly estate sized home. "So, you ready to head out to the park?" She asked quietly, her fingers coming to rest on my shoulder. "Yeah," I replied, turning my head enough to look at her. Again I felt familiar stirrings, noticing what she had chosen to wear. Her top was thin enough that under a good rain, it'd turn from white to transparent, leaving her full breasts exposed to any who saw them. Her pants were equally tight, and of the same material. From my vantage point, being that I was so close, I could nearly see the light pinkness of her nipples through her shirt. I could also see the shadowing of her cleavage through its gossamer cloth, despite being a turtle neck of sorts. Yet her shoulders and arms were completely bare, allowing me to view the flawless, soft skin I could remember feeling as a child. Long black hair hung loose down her back and shoulders, with only the slightest hint of curl to it. Those beautiful lockes framing a still young face that gave witness to many things in her life. Full lips painted a light red, with bright, light green eyes that could suck you right into whatever she was saying. "I've got a better idea. Why don't we go out back and paint instead. I remember how much you used to enjoy that, and it's beautiful enough now that we shouldn't waste the day traveling to the park." "That sounds like a good idea Mom. And I wouldn't mind painting with you." Smiling, I felt her arms wrap around my shoulders as she gave me a tender hug. Yet I was centered on the feel of her warm breasts crushing against my arm. Her nipples dragging along my skin, barely separated by cloth as thin as tissue paper. Then she was gone, making her way to her studio downstairs to collect the various sundries she would need. I took a few more minutes, before making my way to follow. Those minutes spent adjusting my jeans to hide my once again throbbing erection. We made quick work of packing up a few paints, her easels, palettes, and some brushes. I got stuck with carrying the heavy stuff, including a couple fresh canvases, before we made our way outside. It was still warm outside, with only the slight crispness of air that fall brings with it. A light breeze helped keep us cool as we set back up for the day of painting, while it also caused Mother's nipples to pucker and tighten beneath the fabric of her shirt. While I was transfixed upon those nubbins of flesh, she seemed completely unaware of their rising to attention, nor the effect they were having on my young body. Pouring random colors on each palette, she went to work. Her attention on a scene of the lake as daylight struck along the water causing it to reflect around thing around it. I on the other hand, found myself painting Mom. The way she looked, so thoughtful and posed, trying to capture that natural scene before her, was stunningly beautiful. I was lost within it, within the essence of her creative self. Hours passed, neither one of us speaking as were both in our own little worlds. Caught up in the moment, I was placing a few finishing touches on my painting of my mother when I felt her hot, moist breath against my neck. Blinking back that artistic trance, I turned to see her smiling, staring vehemently at my work. "Maybe I should have modeled nude for you," she whispered softly. The words sending a shiver of delight down my spine. Then a sudden grunt as she jabbed me lightly in the side. "Keep teasing like that, and I'll make you." I don't know why I said it, but I did. Those words had been burning up inside of me since she first broached the subject at breakfast. Now, I had to let her know that I liked it. That I wanted to see her naked body. Her brow arched slightly as her lips pulled into a playful grin. I could tell her mind was working, trying to figure out if I meant what I said, and if I would go through with it if I did. I felt myself come to a precipice. A point of decision that had to be made. A place where I couldn't back down, as it would wound me forever. Suddenly I turned, gently tackling my own mother to the ground. Her yelped was expected, even her giggles of joy as she immediately went into roughhousing with me. Our bodies rolling around against one another. Pressing, rubbing, grinding as we both tried to take and keep the upper hand. A constant dance round and round as we traded the top position. Somehow I managed to wind up on top, missing my shirt as it lay somewhere nearby. Her own shirt had been lifted upwards, just below her breasts. And both of us were stained green from wrestling in the grass. Grinning with boyish enthusiasm, I looked down at her panting breasts, watching as they lifted up and down with glowing exertion. Her face flushed, eyes glazed slightly and yet gleaming in the mid-afternoon light. She looked absolutely radiant like that. "Alright... Tyler..." she spoke as hips feebly gyrated beneath me. "You win." Again she writhed, still trying to get loose, to get on top again. But I had her pinned far too well. Hands above her head, my legs between hers and spread enough to give me the leverage I need to keep my position. Her own long legs hooked lazily over my thighs, putting us in a rather compromising position. "That means you have to pose nude for me!" I gave in a triumphant bellow. She laughed. A true, clear sound that echoed around us and causing me to stir atop her. My shaft thick and hard, rubbing with every breath she took, against her clad body. Feeling a sudden heat there as I let my attention focus on that meeting of bodies. "You want to see your old mom naked, huh?" 'I want to fuck you so bad!' Is what I wanted to say to her. I wanted to scream my affirmation so loud that it'd shake the windows and make God tremble with its raw passion. Instead, I just shrugged like the typical teen, giving a sarcastic reply. "I did win." Again she laughed. Only this time she was aware of our situation. Aware that I was so terribly hard, holding her down, rubbing that length against her every time she moved. "Well, how about we have some lunch, and then I'll let you get your dear old mother naked so you can paint her." I just nodded, feeling my voice catching in my throat as she stared into my eyes. A ritualistic instinct causing my hips to press down against her, grinding harder than before. Making her feel how much I wanted her, how much I needed her. In silent response, she pressed upwards, guiding her body to rub itself teasingly along my own. And I couldn't help but moan then. Feeling my own mother wanting me just as much as I wanted her? I could have exploded right there and then, though somehow I hadn't. "But, if you get to paint me nude, you have to do it naked," she suddenly offered. I blushed. I blushed so deep a red I felt the blood leaving my length. Yet I was still hard. Still aching with the natural want for this beautiful woman I had trapped underneath me. Without a word, I just nodded, quickly leaning back and getting to my feet as I offered my hand to her. She accepted, giving a soft groan as I pulled her to standing. Into the house we went, laughing as we noticed the state of our clothes. The initial rush of sexual tension fading away as we made it inside and headed for the kitchen. Neither of us bothered to go get changed, as the thought of being naked for one another still lay fresh in our minds. Lunch itself was rather uneventful. Across the table from one another we sat, quietly glancing back and forth trying to figure this all out. We were headed somewhere taboo. A place where mothers and sons were not meant to go. At least, that was how society saw it. Yet how could we feel this attraction for one another if there wasn't something natural about it? How could our bodies and minds and hearts know that we wanted this, if our genetics were meant to keep this from happening? Questions that I honestly didn't want answered as I stared at my beautiful mother. Her breasts framed so well by that thin shirt. Nipples poking hard through it, trying to rip free as I wanted to reach across and hold both swells within my hands. Smoothly she stood up from her chair, causing me to blink as I looked down at my nearly untouched food. The entire time she'd been eating, I was daydreaming, and she knew it as well as I. Yet she said nothing, and saved me a bit of my honor by keeping that silence. "You know the clearing out in the forest?" She asked, voice low and laced with the sultry excitement of a woman about to commit something very naughty. I simply nodded my reply, taking a tentative bite of my sandwich. "Meet me out there in a few minutes. Bring your paints and easel with you." I watched as she turned away, moving outside and beyond my view. I was left alone, thinking over the day so far. How this all started, how we had played out back. I was dumbstruck to say the least. Still, I waited a few moments before following her path. My own deviation to the terrace where we had left out paintings and supplies. I found the old, worn path that we had walked many times over the years. It led into thick bushes and tall trees which cast the entire area with a surreal feeling. Afternoon light streaming through a dense canopy and casting deep shadows every now and again. Quietly I rounded the last bend, peering around to see my mother stretched out languidly along the large boulder that'd always been there. It was wide and flat along the top, probably from a quarry some years back. Seeing her there on her side, head propped on her hand with legs crossed, caused me to stop completely. My breath caught in a suddenly dry throat, I could only stare at her beautiful nakedness. Her breasts looked larger than they had been in her shirt, and far more supple than I could have imagined. Long, slender legs extended away from her widely flaring hips and narrow waist, painting her picture in my mind before I could get anything setup. What I was most amazed by, was the lack of hair between her pressed together thighs. Completely bare and smooth, as though she never had any hair there to begin with. It made her seem so much younger than her thirty-nine years of age. Blinking away my excitement and stunned expression, I began to setup my supplies. All the while her green eyes followed me, waiting, watching, anticipating what was to happen. It was all I could do to keep from fumbling with everything as I kept staring at her nakedness. "Your turn, baby," she whispered hoarsely as I finally finished getting everything ready. Her words causing me to gasp, as this time, I really was embarrassed. But we had made a deal, and a part of me was thrilled to show off my body to my own mother. Quickly I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks. I was left in only jeans, as I never wore anything underneath when I wore them. Taking in a deep breath to steady my nerves, I fumbled slowly with the fastener and zipper, before peeling my jeans down toned legs. I heard her gasp as I did, aware that she could see my shaft hanging down. Glancing up, I watched the tip of her tongue lick hungrily along her lips, causing them to capture glints of light from above. "Beautiful," she whispered to herself. I noticed the pressing of thighs together as her eyes rested unabashedly upon my rigid shaft. I felt emboldened by her open staring, as though the whole world needed to see my grand nakedness. Quietly, afraid to break the spell we were both under, I picked up my paintbrush and began working. Laying each pigment on the white canvas as I kept glancing back and forth between my mother and my painting. A work of art that I would hang in my room for all my friends to see. I took my time, making sure that every detail was perfect. If I only ever got to see my mother naked this one time, I wanted to immortalize this moment. I wanted to keep a perfect image of her so that when I grew older, I'd have a memory of this gorgeous woman who let me put her likeness into a portrait of the truest beauty. It was as I had begun to paint the fine lines of her womanly crevice, that I was given pause by something. A strange turning of fate that I didn't realize would send us both crashing into a strange and wondrous abyss. Looking up, checking the curves and lighting, I noticed a leaf of the deepest red tumbling down through the air. A thing that seemed captured in slow motion as I followed it every turning step of the way. Then it landed. A simple thing that was both so very poignant, and natural. Yet of all the places, it landed where I had been painting, covering my mothers womanly treasures from my view. I was both angry, and aroused by this. Slowly, trembling inwardly, I moved around from where I had been standing, and moved towards my mother. She watched, eyes half-lidded in that seducing gaze that could have made a priest beg to sin in her bed. But I was transfixed on the leaf that seemingly aimed for that particular spot. My hands betrayed the shivers of excitement that had me giggling inside. Fingers reaching out, sneaking beneath the edge of that still moist leaf. All of my being aware of how close I was to touching my mother. How desperately I wanted to part her thighs and bury my heated rod deep within her belly. Gently I pulled the leaf away, looking at it. Large by many standards, and so brilliant in color. I had to look upwards, trying to see where it had come from. But all I saw was a mass of green that seemed concealing and inviting. Letting my eyes focus again on the leaf, I decided not to toss it away. Instead, I turned to my mother, bringing that fan of nature to rest gently over her heart. The First Leaf's Fall: Ripples Thanks a great deal for the feedback on the first part. This time, I'm trying something a bit different with the plot line. Hope you guys enjoy! *grins* -------------------------------------------------- The First Leaf's Fall: Ripples in the Pond I couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't listen to my son's constant anger as he thrashed about the house ranting and raving about how terrible our life was here. About how much he hated me for divorcing his father. I couldn't take listening to that little, ungrateful bastard berate me for making a choice I felt I had to make. With an exasperated sigh, I stormed out of the backdoors, listening to them slam shut behind as I trudged across the porch and backyard. My feet were bare as I'd forgotten my shoes inside, I continued on towards the small forest that served as a privacy border between my house and the neighbor's. I only came out here during the late nights when I could be alone. When I was sure no one else would be roaming around the forest and my special rock. But today, I had to get away from that mongrel of a son and get my head straight before I fell deep into the depression that nearly claimed me when his father and I started in on our divorce. That really had been the hardest part of my life. Seeing Chester flirting with all those younger girls from work sent me into a fragile state of mind. Seeing him constantly trying to look younger for them, and not for me. Now, two years later, our son Herald was going through his rebellious phase and pushing me to my wits end. Sighing deeply as I rounded the slight bend in my worn path, I was stopped in my tracks as a strange noise caught my attention. Breath held deep in my lungs, I peered as best I could around the large oak that separated my view of the rock. What I saw completely shook me. Rattling every fiber of my being and sending my mind into a tailspin I might never recover from. There upon the rock lay Tyler, my next door neighbor's son. His young, smooth body poised atop a lovely looking woman. From where I stood, I couldn't get a good look at her face. But I did hear her moans, the wailing cries of pleasure as he pumped his thick young shaft deep into her willing body. Captured there in stunned silence, I felt the scene before me having an effect. My body reacting as it should. As I expected it to. My lungs finally exhaled a slow, trembling breath as I watched in rapt captivation. Tyler's muscles tensing and relaxing in a steady, carnal rhythm, allowing him to stroke his eager length in and out of that waiting vessel of womanly lust. A sudden charge of electricity bolted along my nerves causing me to look down, seeing the tips of my fingers teasing hardened nipples through the thin, silk blouse I'd chosen to wear today. A flood of moisture suddenly releasing between my thighs with that briefest of attentions paid to my nipples. Quickly I looked back towards the couple as they pushed themselves faster and harder. Watching as Tyler thrust his hips harder and deeper down in to the woman. All the while, her own hips bucked upwards, trying to drive her young lover deeper into her. I was suddenly struck with a feeling of familiarity. Her voice, as she cried out his name, was one I knew. Trapped between my growing need and the need to know who Tyler's willing partner was, I strained myself closer to the tree and a bit farther around it, making sure not to be seen. Suddenly Tyler cried out, his entire body going rigid. The woman beneath calling his name as she also reached her climax. It was then that her head tipped back and her beautiful face caught within the throws of ecstasy came into full view. She was Tyler's mother! The very woman, who had given birth to him, now lay beneath his body taking in that hot, churning seed of his youth into her very body. Such a revelation struck me with amazing force, causing me to reel backwards and fall to my backside. Gasping, clutching at my chest as my head whirled and I was sent into a whirlwind of depraved, shocked thoughts. Every part of me thrumming as my mind raced in a multitude of directions while I was forced to play catch-up with them all. Quickly I turned to hands and knees, clawing at first as I scrambled back towards my own home. That scene still so vivid in my mind, the sounds replaying in crystal clear quality as I nearly tripped along my back porch. Moments later I slammed my bedroom door shut amidst the raving of my son who's presence in the house, let alone raised voice, barely registered in my head. Panting, gasping, trying to calm myself in anyway possible, I stared blankly at my bed, fingers still holding tight to the plunged neckline of my blouse. Was I going insane? Had I imagined it all in some strange attempt to appease the sexual desires that I had never known to be there before? Possessed is the only word which described how I felt. I was possessed by a brilliantly burning need to release myself. Tearing at my clothes, cool air thrashed against my rapidly disrobed body whilst I threw myself to my bed. I couldn't stop touching myself the moment I hit those covers. Rubbing, pinching, caressing, and slapping every part of my body as the sensation built up within my belly. I was crazed and craven for lustful thoughts. I was hungering for a cock, thick and hard, to ravage my cunt until I lost all sense of myself. The words of description were growing ever more base and crass in my own mind. Screaming inwardly at myself that I was a terrible mother, a terrible person, for watching Tyler and his own mom fucking. Not realizing even then, that they weren't fucking at all. They were making love, as two adults in love often do. Then all thoughts shattered in a kaleidoscope of sensation as the first waves of orgasmic bliss slammed through me. Muscles clenching tight around the three fingers I had buried as deeply as I could within my begging slit. Feeling even then, that I needed and wanted more, that I had to have a hard cock fucking me like the filthy whore that I wanted to be. I felt myself waking sometime later. My body still throbbing, though my mind had relaxed and pushed back those insatiable needs that had dominated me earlier. Taking in a slow breath to test myself, my head turned as I glanced at my bedside clock. Nearly nine in the evening, with the sun already set and no doubt my own son still wide awake in his room. Pulling myself from bed, I made short work of a shower and clothes. I didn't want to spend much time doing either, as something was newly awakened within me. If I lingered for too long doing either of those two things, I might find myself another quivering wreck of orgasmic bliss. Finally, feeling a little closer to myself again, I opened the door to my bedroom testing the waters of my own home to make sure I wasn't about to be bombarded by the other tenant living with me. A step outside, and all was quiet and clear. Letting go of the breath I had reflexively inhaled, I tip-toed my way towards the stairs, pausing only a moment to listen at Herald's door. Fortunately, his room was dark and not a noise crept from the darkness. "If only such moments could last forever," I thought to myself while quietly making my way downstairs. If only they have been real at all would have been the better thought. I hadn't even reached the top step, before Herald was on me. Yelling at me about how terrible a mother I was for not feeding him, for not putting food on the table for him to eat and forcing him to resort to fending for himself. Cringing, I pushed past him, vaguely aware of something stirring as I brushed past his youthful body. I could remember taking him to school when he was younger. The way he glowed as I dropped him off, with a kiss on the cheek and goodbye. Then after school as I picked him up from football practice, his short cropped hair wet from the locker room showers, smelling vaguely of lingering sweat and soap. He was a handsome boy. Nearly six feet tall with a thin build of muscle along his body. The chiseled jaw that his father had used to my growing chagrin, and the deepest blue eyes I'd ever seen. But never had I felt myself growing warmer within his presence. Never had I felt the tingle surging through me as he yelled at me, calling me all manner of names and making me feel even smaller about myself. Stepping into the kitchen, I barely looked in his direction. The entire time I could feel him behind me, strangling me with his words. Those heated sounds pouring down my spine and pooling between my thighs. I could feel the moisture and heat growing ever more unbearable with every passing minute. "Have you been listening to anything I've said?!" I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt him right behind me. Not just in that direction, but completely pressed against my back. His young, hard height feeling as though it belonged against me. It was all I could do to keep from rocking my hips back against him as I felt him pressing tight to me. "I'm sorry, honey. Just a lot on my mind. I'll have dinner ready soon. Go sit down and watch some TV." I tried to placate him in hopes of placating myself. Trying to get him out from behind me so that I wouldn't feel his body rubbing against mine. He seemed upset by that, evidenced by the deep, scornful growl he gave against my ear. I shivered. "Fuck you! Make my god damned dinner!" "Yes, sir," I replied meekly, cowing my head lower to try and curl in upon myself. Images streaking past my mind's eye recalling the events I had seen earlier that afternoon. Remembering the way Tyler's mom looked as he thrust himself deeper and harder into her yielding, wanton body. My hands trembled as they rested against the countertop. His body crushed tighter at my back causing the lightest of moans to escape me. At that moment I realized with a startled whimper, that he was hard. He was fully erect within his thin gym shorts, and rubbing that hardness between my buttocks. I desperately tried to tell myself that he was just horny because his girlfriend hadn't been over recently. I tried to tell myself that this was my verbally abusive son who just needed to be with his father for a little while. If only I actually believed any of that. Again I felt him grind against me, and again I moaned for him. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was aware that he'd stopped yelling at me. That thought caused me to stiffen, as I wanted him to keep yelling. I wanted him to scream at me for being a dirty slut of a mom. "Honey... please..." was all my voice could ebb out as he growled again. "Please what?!" He bellowed. Those words sending shockwaves through my entire body as I suddenly felt myself let go. All the inhibitions melting away as I reached a point of perpetual ecstacy. Like being set into a loop of ever growing excitement that never dulled or slowed. "Please, yell at me," I managed to exhale amidst the writhing of my hips back against him. The scowl on his face burned against the back of my neck as he grunted and pushed away from me. I was suddenly left alone, trembling and aching against the counter barely able to continue standing. All the while listening to his bare feet padding out of the kitchen as I slumped to the floor and curled up around myself, trying to hide from everything around me. I felt the tears staining my cheeks as I sobbed and shivered with every one. Even then, I felt myself so wet between my legs. My slit nearly dripping with my arousal as I kept my eyes tightly closed, recalling that scene over and over again. Where had I gone wrong? Where had I messed up my son and myself so badly, that I was resorting to thoughts of this torment as sexual release? What if he hated me even more for it? The more I thought about it, the closer my fingers moved towards the burning ache between my tightly clamped thighs. The more his words rolled around in my head, the more my legs began to spread. Without warning or realization, I was laying there on the kitchen floor spread wide, pounding my dripping cunt with three long fingers as hard as I could. My thin summer-dress pulled around my waist, with the straps loose and pulled down beneath my breasts. I was a whore. I was a slut. I wanted my own son. I was going to Hell. I couldn't stop myself. I needed more, needed to have my own son rape me. Needed to have him yelling at me, telling me how much I had fucked up his life while he was cramming his cock deeper and harder into me. Those thoughts sent me over the edge once again, spasming around my drenched fingers while I whimpered out his name. Only this time I didn't fall asleep. This time, I wanted and needed more. Shakily I rose to my feet, moaning as thighs rubbed against one another and pressed against the swollen lips of my pussy. My eyes in a teary fog, I felt like a dream as I walked towards the living room. He wasn't there. Up the stairs I went, stumbling slightly as I tried my best to make it up them without falling back down. Then down the hall and to his room, where I found him on his bed. I didn't even bother knocking on his door, or straightening out my dress as I moved to his bed. I simply walked over, and knelt next to him on the floor, bowing my head low. "What the fuck?!" I heard him cry out as he stared at me. "I... I have been such a terrible mother to you, Herald. Please, please let me make it up to you," I pleaded hoarsely. Suddenly I felt his hand in my hair, jerking my head upwards as he stared into my eyes. Such savagery in that stare, that I had to turn away. I had to look at something else besides the hate and contempt and lust in those beautiful blue eyes. He shoved me away, sending me to the floor while he got up off the bed and moved to the door. I cried out. Not from pain or hurt, but from rejection. My own son pushing me away and not allowing me to make him feel better. "PLEASE!" I screamed at him. Shivering from head to toe while I pulled the sundress up over my head and tossed it away. My body rolling onto knees as I looked up at him, naked and trembling with fear and excitement. "What the hell do you want?! You already ruined my life when you divorced dad." "Please, Herald. Please let mommy make you feel better." Oh God, what was I saying? What was I doing? But the longer I knelt there, exposed, vulnerable, needy, the more I felt that this was right. Slowly I put my hands to the floor in front of me, crawling on them and knees towards my son. For a moment I chanced a quick look at him, seeing that he just stood there motionless as I approached. A moment more and I was there right in front of him. My neck craning forward as I nuzzled my face against the front of his shorts. His hard shaft so hot beneath the thin fabric, and oh so very hard. My mouth was nearly watering to feel it, to have it against my tongue and between my lips. "Fucking slut! That's what you are!" "Yes... oh yes!" I cried. Tears again stinging my cheeks as fingers lifted to the bottom of his shorts, lightly tugging them down over his erect shaft. "This what you want?!" I heard him scowling at me again. I felt the tingles shooting straight to my cunt as his hands pulled those shorts the rest of the way down. I found myself audibly gasping at the sheer beauty of his cock. Longer than his father's, and so much thicker. I'd never had anything like that in my entire life. Just the thought of him fucking me with that thing was enough to nearly make me cum. Without warning, his open palm slapped against my cheek, sending a shock of pain tearing along my face as I sprawled out onto the floor. Weeping then, I looked up at him, staring at those eyes so filled with hate and loathing. My mind racing as I was torn between loving him, and lusting after him. Torn between being his mother, and his lover. Torn between the feeling of surreal awakening, and reality. Then all at once, I felt the world crashing down around me with the banshee's cry of my own voice. Bolting upright while I heaved and choked down great breaths of air. Soaked in sweat and my own juices, I franticly looked around only to find myself in my bed still. All of it a dream. All of it a strange and twisted evening that had been lived out in my head. It all started when I saw Tyler and his mother in the forest between our houses. And now, laying there naked and sweaty, I realized what I had to do to save my relationship with my own son.