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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 years or older when in sexual situations.

Chapter One

I’m sure if you’re a mother you’ve felt it and if you’re not a mother you’ve seen it. It’s the undying devotion a mother has to her son. For most, it’s an unbreakable bond forged with love.

But sometimes that all-consuming love will blind you to the propriety of your actions, and that’s what happened to me. I’m not unhappy about what happened, but I never imagined I’d be in this place, confessing my sin, and wondering if I should beg for forgiveness.

My son Ethan was a freshman in college. He was an only child, raised in our modest suburban ranch house with 60’s vintage Formica tops and pink tile bathrooms. My husband and I made sure that Ethan wanted for nothing, even if that meant scrimping on the car we bought or the type of vacation we took. Ethan was the kind of kid who didn’t take anything for granted and was appreciative of what we did for him. He was an excellent student and was able to secure admission to a prestigious college on a full scholarship. We were as proud as could be of his accomplishments.

Ethan grew from a gangly adolescent to a tall, handsome young man. He was a bit taller than his father Mike, and retained his lean frame, which was perfect for running cross-county in high school. His dark wavy hair was always a bit on the long side but he kept his face clean shaven (thank God) and didn’t fall to peer pressure in getting any tattoos or piercings.

We did go to church regularly. I wouldn’t say we were religious, but we did believe in the brotherhood of man, and wanted our son to learn about faith, compassion and forgiveness. I think we all had a strong moral foundation and always strived to do the right thing.

We also shared a close family relationship at home. While he was living at home we made a point to have dinner together every night and to discuss what happened during the day. Ethan was, for the most part, pretty open about his life, although he didn’t share a whole lot of information when it came to the girls he dated. Even though he was a handsome man he was shy, so his dating in high school was relatively limited. He did bring a few girls home and we did our best to entertain them. It was clear that he was a bit awkward around girls, but to my knowledge never discussed his relationships with my husband Mike and definitely not with me.

That is, until he was home on Spring break. It came up rather innocently in a conversation about school.

“So how are your classes?” I asked. Ethan and I were sitting in the breakfast nook sharing a late breakfast. He took the opportunity on his break to sleep past ten. His hair was still disheveled as he pushed around the last of his three egg omelet and sipped the dregs of the coffee in his mug.

“Pretty good. I’m enjoying my English lit class. The chemistry and math classes are hard, but I’m getting through them. I hate my statistics class, but it’s a prereq for my business major. All in all, I’m doing well and for the most part enjoying the challenge.”

“That’s great. Anything else going on – roommates and, you know, other friends?” I was his mom. I was entitled to probe. Wasn’t I the one that stayed up until 3 a.m. helping him finish his 7th grade science project? And what about the time I braved a pouring rain to wait in line so he could attend a summer music camp? I was entitled to answers.

“It’s fine. Alex and Jon are rarely in the room. They usually study in the library. I’ve made a bunch of friends in my dorm. I’ll probably invite a few over during the summer, if that’s OK.”

“It’s more than OK. I’d love to meet some of your college friends. So anything else?” He knew what I was getting at. I was asking if he was dating anyone.

He hesitated, clearly to carefully word his response. “Mom, I’ve met somebody.”

His words were like a bucket of cold water being thrown on me. It was a mommy reaction. In a split second I was visualizing him getting married, moving away, and with me relegated to phone calls once a week and visits twice a year. My heart dropped into my stomach, but I tried my best to hide my reaction.

“That’s great honey,” I said, trying to paste my best smile on my face. “Who is it?”

I could see that he was studying my face for my reaction. I’m not sure if the fake smile worked. He decided to forge ahead, still choosing his words carefully. “Her name if Allison. I met her in my English lit class.”

Allison was a lovely name. “Do you have a picture of her?” I knew I was pushing, but I had to know.

He hemmed and hawed, but finally pulled out his phone and scrolled through his pictures, finally selecting one to show me. I tried to look over his shoulder and was certain istanbul escort I saw some pictures taken at a party with her. Of course he didn’t show me those. He showed me a selfie of the two of them at a high end restaurant. They were both dressed for the occasion. I have to admit Allison was lovely. Curly red hair, porcelain skin, demure, with bright blue eyes. She seemed to have an ample, if not generous bust, but I couldn’t really make out much else from the picture.

“She looks like a beautiful girl. How long have you been dating?” I was really pressing my luck.

He started to withdraw. I knew this was about all I was going to get. “A while. I don’t know. Maybe a couple months.” He shoveled the last few bites of the omelet in his mouth, wiped his face with a napkin, and took his dirty dishes to the sink. “I’ve got some stuff to do. Thanks for breakfast.” He ended the questioning by leaving.

Allison. Was she his first love? I should have been happy for him. As much as I wanted to suppress it I felt jealousy. And not the jealousy one has over a possession, such as a neighbor’s nice car – this was the jealousy that takes hold in a dark place in your heart. It was much deeper, an all-encompassing jealousy that eats at you … consumes you … the kind of jealousy that makes you do things you’ll regret later. She was going to take away my baby. I kicked myself for harboring these thoughts and told myself that Ethan was happy, and therefore I was happy. It was simply putting a cork in a bottle containing a maelstrom of powerful emotions.

There really wasn’t more to it for the next few days. Ethan went out and spent time with his high school friends, my husband went to work, and I attended to the usual household chores. My usually cheerful disposition was missing. I couldn’t get Allison’s face out of my mind, imagining her kissing my son, and then seducing him with her young, voluptuous body. I couldn’t compete with her, and was becoming resigned to the fact that my baby had grown up and would soon be in the arms of another woman.

I was washing the wine glasses from last night’s dinner when one shattered in my hand. My thoughts of Allison and Ethan made me grip the glass too tightly and the pressure made the glass explode. Fortunately none of the glass shards cut me, but it was a grim reminder that I was too tightly wound over my son’s surprising revelation.

I remembered what it was like when Ethan was living at home. I was doing about double the amount of laundry I usually did and was towing a full basket of his clothes to his room, still stewing about his beloved Allison. I put the basket on his desk. I must have hit his computer mouse because his monitor flickered to life. I wasn’t an overly snoopy mom but I did notice that at the top of the screen that one of the open windows was an x-rated video site. I hunched over his desk and clicked on that window and a still image of a man and a woman having sex appeared. I hit the “play button” and watched as a well-endowed man was engaging in intercourse with a young, big breasted redhead.

I was alone in the house and knew I’d be by myself for at least a few hours. I sat in his desk chair, placed my bare feet on each side of his keyboard and put my hand inside my sweat pants. I hadn’t really been a fan of porn, but knowing that my son was watching this spurred me on. It was no coincidence that the woman had a passing resemblance to Allison.

The man was positioned behind the woman, taking her doggy style. I’d only had sex in the missionary position with Mike, so watching the man’s cock, shiny with the woman’s pussy juices almost its entire length, pistoning in and out of her hairless pussy, was a major turn on for me. The woman’s breasts were swaying with each thrust, her flaming red hair tousling from side to side as she shook her head and issued low, guttural moans with the pleasure she was experiencing. I lifted my hips and pushed my sweats to my ankles, kicking them off and spreading my legs with my feet on the desk. My fingers found my pussy hair matted together with the evidence of my arousal.

Mike and I had devolved to once a month couplings, so the lustre of sex had long ago worn off. But viewing this video, I felt again as if I was in my early 20’s, and ready to have sex multiple times in one day. I hiked up my t-shirt over my breasts, now large and heavy from child bearing and the passage of years. I twisted my nipple, giving me both a jolt of pain and pleasure. The speed of my hand quickened, and before too long I had thrown my head back and was experiencing a full-throated orgasm, thankful there was no one there to hear me.

Or so I thought.

I was so caught up in the torrid sex and the best orgasm I had in years that I didn’t hear the bedroom door swing open.

“Mom! What the fuck are you doing?”

I felt as if I was jolted with a cattle prod. “Ethan! You’re home!” I exclaimed, stating what was painfully obvious. I scrambled to my feet before realizing my pants were under his desk and my tits were şişli escort still exposed, my t-shirt still riding high above them.

His look of horror changed to something else as he eyed my large, pendulous tits and sopping wet pussy. I couldn’t place the look, but I could swear it was one of lust.

I ducked under his desk to retrieve my sweat pants, banging my head firmly on the desk as I struggled to get up.

“Fuck!” I said, uncharacteristically swearing in front of my son. The pain took the focus away from my embarrassment. I pulled my sweat pants back on and tugged on my t-shirt to cover my breasts.

“What are you doing in my room?”

“I … I … I was putting away your laundry and I hit your mouse and I saw you were watching porn and one thing led to another,” I said breathlessly and incoherently.

“This is MY room. You’ve got no business going through my stuff.” He was now indignant. I’ve seen that self-righteous attitude before. It got my blood up.

“Well, what were you doing watching porn in our house?”

“I could say the same to you.”

“Answer my question.”

“Fuck off Mom.”

He had never said a cross word to me before. Without thinking I slapped him. Hard. I walked out of his room hopping mad. He slammed the door.

The remainder of the day the tension was palpable. Dinner was eaten in virtual silence. Mike was puzzled by the coldness, but was too tired to find out why. He adjourned to his study to finish work he had brought home. I decided to take a hot bath and reflect on what had transpired. As I immersed myself in the hot water my mind cleared. I was in the wrong. If I hadn’t been so snoopy none of this would have happened. I decided I was the one that had to apologize. That epiphany allowed me to relax. I’d clear the air and that would be that. I still couldn’t believe that my son, of all people, caught me masturbating to porn.

That night Mike crawled into bed, tired from working after supper until bedtime. I was so worked up from watching the hot sex scene that afternoon that I practically pounced on the poor man.

“Hey, hey, what’s gotten into you?” Mike asked as I put my hand inside his boxer shorts.

“This,” I said as I fished out his hardening cock and took it completely in my mouth. A wicked thought entered my mind, so wicked it pains me to admit it. As I took Mike’s cock in my mouth I wondered what it would be like if it was Ethan’s instead.

“Oh,” he replied as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. I sucked him until he was hard and then got on top, grinding my needy cunt onto his rock hard cock until I achieved my release, all the time with thoughts of Ethan flashing in my mind. I got off Mike and sucked his cock until he came in my mouth, using my lips to squeeze the last drops out and swallowing his salty load..

“Wow, I hope this happens every time I work until bedtime,” Mike quipped as he watched me wipe his cum off the outside of my mouth.

“Don’t you wish,” I said, giving his limp cock one last tug. Satiated for the moment, my last thought before lapsing into a deep sleep was my precious Ethan.

Chapter Two

The next morning I woke up feeling surprisingly fresh. I was working on my apology while making breakfast when Ethan came strolling into the kitchen.

‘Where’s Dad?”

“He’s gone to work. How did you sleep?” I tried to act as normally as possible.

He glared at me. “Uhh, fine, considering.” He wasn’t going to let me off easy.

I put scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him. “I’m sorry.” I’m sure I sounded contrite.

“Yeah,” he grunted. I wanted to slap him again, but that wouldn’t be in line with an apology.

“I shouldn’t have gone through your computer.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.”

“I just wanted to explain. It was innocent. I put the laundry basket on your desk and it hit your mouse. The porn site came up as one of your open windows.” Hopefully he didn’t take my statement as defensive. I just wanted to explain I didn’t go up to his room with the express purpose of snooping.

He raised his head to look me in the eye. “It was funny.”

I laughed. I had to. It was funny. “I’m sorry. It’s really not how I want you to see your mom.”

His eyes turned lustful. “I’ve never done it before.”

I knew what he was telling me. I needed to be careful how I was going to respond. He was now a 20 year old man, not a boy. “It’s OK. I’ve only done it once, and that was to make you.”

He laughed, and the tension was broken. He decided to come clean. “Allison wants to do it. When we get back from Spring break. I guess I’m so compulsive I was studying so I can do well.”

Of course. That’s why he was watching porn. Not just for the excitement. He really wanted to know how to make love to a woman. “You do well at anything you put your mind to.” I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were fastened on my chest. I was still wearing my pajamas so he got a good view of my nipples and breasts mecidiyeköy escort without a bra.

This is where my love of my son, my desire to help, my arousal from yesterday’s afternoon delight followed by raunchy sex with my husband, and my general lack of good judgment all came together. “I can help.”

“How?”

“I can tell you how to make love to a woman. Allison won’t know what hit her.”

He looked at me askew. Was I really offering what I was offering? His mother? “Let me think about it.”

He left without touching his breakfast. I shoveled his breakfast into the dog dish and wondered why I said what I said. I didn’t realize at that time that the little dark spot in my heart, fueled by jealousy, was leading us both down a path of no return.

I decided to go to the gym that afternoon and work out. It would be a good way to burn off the sexual tension I was feeling. Besides, I needed to get rid of that last pesky five pounds I wanted to lose. I put on my sports bra and shorts and covered up with warm-ups. Ethan was still upstairs doing God knows what. As I was packing to leave, he called out for me from his room, “Mom?”

“Yes, honey,” I replied.

“Can you come up for a second?”

“Sure,” I answered as I climbed the stairs. I entered his room. He was sitting at his computer, and swiveled in his chair to face me.

“Tell me how.”

That surprised me. I thought he’d forgotten about or rejected my offer out of hand. He had obviously been thinking about it. Now I was on the spot. I hadn’t really planned out what to say. “Well, the first thing you should do is notice what Allison is wearing, how she’s done her hair. Has she done something special for you, such as buy a new outfit or wear her hair a different way? You need to notice and comment on it.”

“Got it,” he replied.

“So let’s pretend I’m Allison and I have a new hair style.”

“Do we have to?”

“Only if you want to learn.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Allison, I like your hair.”

I grimaced. “That was awful. Try again.”

“Allie, I like what you’ve done with your hair. Is that new?”

“Much better. Now girls like to be touched, nicely, and not pawed. There are a lot of things you can do that don’t involve anything overtly sexual.”

“Like what?”

“Well, some girls like to have their arm touched, or the side of their face, or their neck.”

“What do you like?”

“I like it when a man runs the back of his hand against my cheek.”

“Like this?” He reached out to me and grazed my cheek with the back of his hand. It felt electric.

“Yes, like that,” I cooed.

“What else?”

“I like to have my neck covered with soft kisses. Now you don’t have to do it but you get the picture.”

“Let me try. It’s harmless … right?”

He covered my neck with light kisses. The hairs rose on my arms. That little dark spot in my heart was growing larger. I took his head with my hands and kissed him hard on the lips. His surprise gave way to passion, as he parted his lips. Our tongues swirled around one another in a forbidden mating ritual. His hands were already behind me, caressing the small of my back.

I was careening out of control. The dark spot enveloped my heart, pulling me deeper into dangerous and uncharted waters. “Does Allison have big breasts?”

“Not like yours, Mom.”

“Let me show you how to make love to them. Take off my top.” I held my arms over my head. He pulled my top over my head, revealing my black sports bra. “Now the bra.” His hands were trembling as he gripped the stretchy material and unclasped the hooks in the back. I wiggled my arms to allow the straps to fall down my arms. I threw it aside, now standing nude from the waist up in front of my son.

We were both consumed by lust as he lunged forward burying his head between my breasts, using his hands to squeeze the soft, pliable flesh.

“Easy son, gentle. A woman doesn’t like to be manhandled,” I gently chided him.

He eased up, putting his hands under my breasts to feel their weight and softness, then leaning forward to tentatively lick my erect nipple.

“Yessss,” I said with encouragement. “That’s what Momma wants.”

His tongue went around and around my nipple until I became dizzy with pleasure. He went to the other nipple, repeating this seductive dance. My mind was racing, trying to think straight when the person I loved the most in the world was making love to me. This was wrong. It must have been. But … but, why? We loved each other.

The dark spot in my heart cast a shadow over the two of us. There was no turning back. “Son, let me show you something that will win Allison’s heart.”

He stopped sucking my nipple. I almost regretted having him stop. “Show me.”

“Ethan, kiss me down past my belly to my sex.” I spread my legs wide, showing him the thicket of dark, curly hair protecting my labia.

His eyes widened. “Mom … I … ”

I used my hands and gently nudged his head lower, feeling his soft, wet kisses on my tummy. His kisses became more frantic as he caught the scent of my pussy and could see the moisture leaking from it. He started to lap up the juice, slowly at first, and then more quickly.

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