Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Never Doubt I Love


Summary: What happens in New York stays in New York.


Keywords: inc,fic,written by women



   In retrospect I had no one to blame but myself.  I love clothes.  I
can't remember when I didn't.  I wanted to be a designer.  Mom thought that
impractical and said I should be nurse.  After all, Mom suggested, with my
looks I could rope-in a doctor husband.  Chasing dreams was something rich
people did.  So I was in college, in my second year of a pre-nursing
program and I hated it.  Every minute of every day, I hated it.

   So what did I do?  I met Charles Clinton.  He was from a good family,
one of those families my mother approved of, and he offered an out.  He
would take care of me and save me from a career I detested.  That he was as
controlling as my mother, telling me what to wear and what to do, was a red
flag I choose not to see.

   I am more self-forgiving as to a second, more obscure red flag.  Charles
would assume that I would be grateful that a rich man like him would choose
a poor girl like me.  He expected, after we married, to have carte blanche
to do what he pleased.

   Of course, it was not only my mother, but everyone else who seemed to
think it was a great idea.  Well, almost everyone.  I had a high school
teacher, Janet Prosnit, whom I held in awe.  After I graduated the seven
year difference in our ages seemed unimportant; she became a friend I loved
and adored.  She had always urged me to pursue my dream, a career in
fashion.  When I talked to her about Charles, she suggested I think it over
real hard.

   And now for a third and, I promise, my final act of self-remonstration.
I could have said no the night we made love without protection.

   His family was not happy about the union, but I worked hard to win their
approval and while I can't say I fully overcame their reservations, I was
far more dutiful daughter-in-law than he a son.  They could, and did,
depend on me and if not their unconditional love, I won their respect.

   Unfortunately for his relationship with his macho father, our son
inherited my love of design.  It wasn't clothes, it was drawing and comic
books.  Charles signed his son up for football, baseball, soccer, and
basketball.  Rick dutifully participated.  He just wasn't particularly
good.

   After Rick's failure in sports Charles, to Rick's immense relief, paid
minimal attention to him, leaving Rick free to pursue his interests.  I was
not my mother, I fully encouraged him.  Thus, during the summer before his
senior year in high school when he expressed a desire to go to New York to
visit the Parsons School of Design and the School of Visual Arts, the
country's leading graphic design schools, I was supportive.  His father
said no.

   "I am not sending my son to college to learn to draw!"

   I brokered a compromise.  Rick was about to turn eighteen.  My birthday
was a week after his.  How about a family trip to New York as a dual
birthday present?  Charles, reluctantly, agreed and said he'd come along, a
proposal I would have abhorred more - I didn't want to go to New York to
watch baseball games - if I wasn't sure Charles would find a reason to back
out of the trip.  A cultural trip with his family in New York was most
certainly not his thing.  When one came up he started imposing arbitrary
financial restrictions on the trip - it was his way of showing who was in
charge.  Charles decided Rick and I would share a suite at the
Ritz-Carlton. I argued that there were far cheaper places to stay where
Rick and I could have separate rooms, but Charles was adamant: his wife
would get the best.  However, his "pussy" son did not need his own room. 
He could sleep on the couch.

   Rick seemed unoffended; he had long ago taken the measure of his father.

   Rick, who had also assumed his father would bail on the trip, had
insisted on planning our vacation.  He had, he said, a thousand ideas and
plenty of surprises for his mother.  Especially day one.  Day one was my
birthday.

   We touched down in New York on Friday evening, making it to the hotel
with only enough time to unpack, brush our teeth, and hit the sack.  The
bed was huge and I offered to share it with Rick.  He declined, heading for
the couch.

   He was up early the next morning, bringing me a cup of coffee in bed. 
"Happy birthday Mom.  Today you get anything you want, whether you're
supposed to have it or not."

   He then unveiled his "suggested" schedule.  He had done his research; it
exceeded my imagination.  We started out by visiting the museum at the
Fashion Institute of Technology, famous for its collection of gay and
lesbian inspired clothing, and then the more traditional fashion collection
at Metropolitan Museum of Art.

   We went to lunch at Jungsik, a Korean-French restaurant.  I scanned the
menu: sea urchin, octopus, squid.

   "Your Dad would never come here."

   "That's sort of the point."

   I had three glasses of wine and we went shopping at Lavin's and
Bloomingdale's.  Rick encouraged me to buy whatever I wanted.  I checked
the prices.

   "You're father will have a fit."

   "He'll have a fit no matter what we do.  And remember today's theme: you
get anything you want, whether you're supposed to have it or not."

   That, at least to a woman with three glasses of wine in her, made
perfect sense.  I bought several outfits, sexier than I would normally.

   We got back to the hotel and I, still buzzed, lay down, my head on my
son's leg, and fell asleep.  I woke about forty-five minutes later,
slightly groggy.  My son, just getting out of the shower, was wearing a
towel.  I inspected his body.  I had not realized how long and lean he was.
My husband was broad shouldered and barrel chested, Rick's body was much
closer to my slender build.  I had let my husband's criticism of Rick's
athleticism and sport of choice, bicycling, influence me.  Rick was far
from the chiseled body builder my husband idealized, but he was lithe and
muscular.

   "You better get ready.  We got places to go."

   "What are you talking about?"

   He pointed to the pillow next to me.  It was Fashion Week in New York
and sitting there were two invitations to the show of my favorite designer.

   I held them up.  I stared.  "Ohmigod!  How did, where, how, ohmigod,
thank you." I felt tears well-up.  I wiped them away.

   "Now aren't you glad we went shopping?"

   * * * *

   I looked in the mirror.  I wasn't going to compete with the ladies on
the runway, but still, I thought I looked pretty good.  Through the years
of my marriage I had maintained my figure and I still carried only 115
pounds on my five foot six inch frame.  I had also discovered one nice
thing about the B breasts I had complained about when I was a teenager; at
thirty-eight they remained pert and firm.

   I went with a simple strapless coral dress that hung to my knees.  The
dress was sexy, but understated, and it showed off my shoulders and back.
It went well with my caramel brown hair, which flowed past my shoulder
blades, green eyes, and lightly tanned skin.  The shoes, well there I got a
bit impractical, choosing ivory open-toed evening sandals with 3½ inch
heels.  Some simple gold earrings and a bracelet completed the look.

   The evening was fabulous, as fabulous and magical and sexy as I imagine
any evening could be.  Rick and I were surrounded my beautiful men and
women and beautiful clothes.  A bit intimidated by the crowd, I stayed at
his side and when we walked back to our hotel we held hands.  Once in the
room I gave him a big hug and poured out my appreciation.  When done Rick
placed his open hand on the side of my face and said, "It's how you should
be treated every day," and kissed my lips.

   I was already aroused - how could you spend an evening like that and not
be - and felt a sudden explosion down below.  I put my hand on his shoulder
and closed my eyes, realizing that I was waiting for another kiss.  He
didn't deliver.  Instead he sat me on the edge of the bed.  "Let's get
these off you." He took off my shoes and cradled my feet.  "Are they sore?
You don't often wear heels all evening."

   My voice was almost meek.  "A bit."

   He went to the bathroom and returned with a warm wet wash cloth that he
used to clean my feet.  He rotated my ankles and toes clockwise and
counterclockwise and then pulled on each toe.  He applied lotion to his
hands and walked his thumbs over the soles, pushing deep, finding the
pressure points.  Turning to the balls of my feet, he moved his thumbs in
semicircles, working back and forth, and then focused on my soles, the
massage starting at the top and ending at the heel.  He finished by cupping
his hands and sliding his palms and fingers forcefully up and down my feet.
It was wonderful.  I could get used to this.

   "How do they feel?"

   "Much better.  Oh Rick, this has been the best day of my life."

   He lay on the bed next to me.  "They should all be like this, but
today's not over yet.  Remember our theme: you get anything you want,
whether you're supposed to have it or not."

   He kissed my forehead.  I thought about how I had wanted him to kiss me
again when we first got back to our room.  I opened my mouth, running my
tongue along my lips, inviting him to do so again.  He tilted his head and
kissed my lips.  I kissed him back and when he returned for another peck, I
worked my lips against his, flexing my jaw.  He broke the kiss and took my
head in his hands, bending it forward to kiss my forehead, kissed my mouth
and eyes, turned my head to the side and took an ear lobe in his mouth and,
oh so carefully, dragged his teeth across it.

   Up until that point I had been quiet, unwilling to make the slightest
noise fearful of disrupting the perfection of the moment, but I let out a
low long moan, "Unnhhhh..."

   Rick whispered in my ear.  "I've always thought you were the most
beautiful woman in the world."

   We moved up the bed.  I lay on my back, he next to me.  He turned to
face me, propping his head up on an elbow.  His other hand was traipsing
down the side of my body.  We resumed kissing.  It was like being back in
high school, when kissing was not just a step on the way to another place,
but an end in itself.  I explored his mouth.  After awhile he pushed me
away and again kissed my mouth, my cheeks, my nose, my chin, my ears; his
face wore a radiant smile.  His hand had become bolder, his fingertips were
gently caressing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.  I spread my legs;
my moans were louder and insistent.  I needed more.

   His hand slipped under my loose fitting dress, it's heel sitting on top
of my panties.  He cupped my pussy.

   I stiffened, not sure what to do.  Then his voice again, "Remember,
whether you're supposed to or not." He squeezed and kneaded my pussy mound.
The soaking wet lips of my sex slid against each other.  He shifted the
position of his hand so its heel sat on my clitoris and worked his fingers
along my labia and pussy lips through the panties.  He rocked the heel of
his hand on my clit.

   "Oh Rick," I said, acknowledging who he was for the first time,
"Ahhhh...uhhhmmmm." I pushed my hips, and clit, into his hand.

   His pulled up my dress so it was above my waist.  A single finger,
starting at the top of my labia, slipped under my panties and slowly, ever
so slowly, surfed through the moisture to the opening of my vagina.  It
massaged my pussy lips, sending shivers throughout me.  My vagina swelled
and spread, the lips of my pussy opened.  He placed the tip of his finger
inside me and it sank inside as my vaginal spasms drew down as if it was
standing on quicksand.

   He twisted it around, rubbing the interior walls of my snatch.  I was
murmuring in delight when I felt a sharp explosion of pleasure.  So there
was such a thing as a g-spot!  I held his upper arm and moaned.

   "Am I'm doing it right?"

   "Oh, yes!"

   He kept moving inside me, sometimes returning to my g-spot, delighting
it with the tip of his finger.  I was getting wetter and wetter.  Drops of
juice ran down my thighs and butt.  The walls of my vagina swelled and
ballooned, opening themselves to him.

   My son noticed too.  "I can feel how turned on you're getting.  You're
so incredibly wet.  Your pussy..."

   When he said that word I groaned, pushing my sex against him.

   He shifted position to pull off my panties.  I lifted my ass to help. 
He was looking directly at my sex.

   "Your pussy, Mom, its changing colors, from pink to red to purple.  It
must dig my finger."

   "Yes, oh please."

   "The lips of your cunt..."

   I felt a new explosion inside.

   "The lips of your cunt, they're swelling, flattening out, your cunt is
opening up to me."

   His finger left my vagina.

   I started to object, "Oh no, please," but then it rolled over my
clitoris.

   "Unnhhhh."

   It stopped just above the button and stretched the skin up.

   "Your clit is beautiful Mom.  I can see it.  Its growing."

   A finger, maybe two, touched it, bumped it, stroked it.

   "Oh my god...Ahhhhhh..."

   Blood filled my breasts.  My nipples stiffened.  I started to reach for
them, I wanted to plunge my hand inside my dress and play with them.  Then
I heard the voice of Charles, my husband, criticizing me when I tried
anything new in bed.

   Rick noticed my hesitation.  He kissed me and, his voice soft, said, "If
you want to play with your perfect breasts..."

   "Ahhhhhhhhhh."

   "...you should do so.  You should have everything you want."

   I took them in my hands, squeezing and kneading, my thumbs working the
sensitive nipples.

   The pleasure from my breasts merged with that from my clit as Rick
trapped it between his fingers.  My pulse rate jumped.  My skin heated up
and took on a gentle red hue.

   I was floating on a celestial plateau, my body suffused with pleasure.
Rick's pinkie returned to my vagina, teasing the swollen entrance.

   "Your snatch, Mom, its wonderful.  So tight.  I can feel it squeezing my
finger.  You've got such a beautiful pussy Mom."

   The pressure was building inside me, desperate to escape.  I was a
pressure cooker waiting to explode.  My clittie retracted, pulling back
into my body.  Rick's fingers followed it, continuing their sweet torture,
upping the tension, increasing it until I thought it would tear me apart.

   I worked my breasts harder.  My entire body was straining.  My heart
rate shot up; I was gulping in air.

   Then all the tension, all the pressure, all the muscular and nervous
energy, all of it, in less than a moment, released in an explosion of pure
sexual bliss.  It was the most intense, most profound physical experience
of my life.  It was like a seizure, or a series of convulsions,
incorporating my entire body.  I jackknifed on the bed, my head and stomach
bouncing from the mattress, my arms and legs flailing in the air.  Then,
suddenly, all I was relaxed, utterly relaxed.  I lay there; my body
tingled. This is what sex should be.

   Rick undressed me and in a voice thick with love said, "Are you going to
wash up?  You've always said getting the make-up off helps your skin."

   My voice seemed far away and weak.  "I'm sorry son, I can't move.  I
just want to lie here."

   He got up and returned with bowl of water and a wash cloth.  He cleaned
my face.  Then he laid down and wrapped an arm around me.  He was fully
clothed.

   "This was the best day of my life."

   "They should all be Mom."

   * * * *

   I woke at 3:00 A.M.  I reached for my son, but he was not there.  There
was a light on in the living room.  In there I found him stripped to his
underwear on the couch, asleep.  On the table before him were drawings of
my face with hair dangling to the middle of my back.  I was beautiful.  Is
that how he saw me?  I laid a blanket over him, kissed his forehead, turned
off the light, and returned to bed.

   * * * *

   I slept in the next day.  When I woke I heard Rick in the living room. I
grabbed one of the thick bathrobes provided by the hotel and walked in.  He
was wearing a robe.  His wet hair showed he'd showered.  On the table
before him were the drawings of me, but now my head was attached to the
body of a muscular woman with enormous breasts in a one-piece spandex tank
body suit.

   He looked at me and then followed my gaze to the drawings.

   "I was imagining you as a superhero."

   I sat next to him, our legs touching.  I took a drawing in my hands,
studying it.  Finally I said, "The drawings are wonderful son, but whoever
that woman is, she stole my head."

   It took him a second, but he got it, "All woman superheroes look like
that; they've all got huge muscles, giant boobs, and wear tight clothes."

   I put my arm around his shoulder and kissed his head.  My body felt so
good.  Last night's orgasm was still rumbling around within me.

   "I hear you, but think about my perspective.  I look at that and think,
you must not like my body, you want a woman who looks like that."

   He looked at me, then at the drawing.  He'd heard what I said, which is
more than my husband ever did.  He spent a minute or two looking at the
drawings.  "I hadn't thought about it that way.  You're beautiful, the most
beautiful woman I've ever known.  I wouldn't change a thing.  I'll sketch
out a few new ideas."

   I started a sentence, "About last night..." and stopped.  What about
last night?  Where did I want to go with this?

   He put the drawing down and took my hand in his, leaning into my body.
"Mom, last night, before you feel asleep, you said it was the best day of
your life.  Did you mean it?"

   "Yes."

   "That's what I wanted it to be.  Can we, at least for a little while,
not try to figure out what else is was."

   He was right.  It had been a magical day.  It should stay a magical day.


   "Okay honey."

   * * * *

   That day was devoted to Rick.  We spent the morning at the Museum of
American Illustration and the rest of the day wandering New York City: we
ate pizza, visited Greenwich Village and Strawberry Fields, and walked
across the Brooklyn Bridge.  We got back to the hotel in plenty of time to
dress for Never Doubt I Love.  It was to be our theater experience in New
York.

   We had chosen this show, in part, because it would never come to our
home town.  I'm still not sure how to describe it.  It called itself
immersive theater.  Two and a half hours of wandering through several
floors of interconnected warehouses while actors dashed from room to room
performing pantomime montages inspired by Shakespeare's Hamlet.  The rooms
were dark and stuffed with junk, the electronic music thudded, and the
attendees wore masks and dressed in black.  The day before I had picked out
a short black leather dress which displayed a bit of cleavage, a broad
black belt, black boots, and black leggings.  Rick wore a turtle neck and
slacks.

   I was nervous when we entered the warehouse, but soon relaxed and began
to enjoy the experience.  Not only was the performance otherworldly, but
the variety of people attending - interracial couples, gay men, some people
in grubby clothes, others in high fashion - were unknown in the world where
I lived.  I was especially struck by a lesbian couple, one a tall willowy
blonde who looked like a model, the other in cropped hair and built like a
spark plug.  I imagined my husband's carping if he saw such a pairing.

   We had been there about an hour when, standing on a balcony, we came
upon a re-enactment of the play within the play in Hamlet.  My son guided
me to an open spot and stood behind me, his arms wrapped around my body. 
The electronic music was overpowering.

   I spotted the two women.  The blonde was standing behind her partner,
kissing and nibbling on her neck.  There was no shame in their coupling. 
No one stared in disapproval.  I scanned the people around me.  Almost
everyone, through a touch, a kiss, a caress, was expressing love for the
person they were with.  Everyone was wearing the prescribed masks.  We were
all anonymous.

   I turned my head and caught Rick's attention.  I spoke, trying to tell
him I loved him, but the music was far too loud for me to be heard.  There
was another way to say it; I kissed him, working my lips against his for
several seconds.  No tongue, but not a mother's kiss.  I turned back to
watch the performance.  He understood.  His arms tightened around me and I
lay my hands over his.  I was happy, content.

   For the next hour we wandered through the warehouses drinking in the
show but now a couple, holdings hands, touching, exchanging kisses.  When
the performance ended the crowd was ushered into several rooms as bands
played music.  Rick and I danced for an hour.  Our kissing and touching
became increasingly more aggressive.  When we piled into a cab bound for
the hotel I attacked him, kissing him over and over.  When the cabbie
reached the hotel we slipped him a bill with a generous tip, we were not
waiting for change.  We hurried through the lobby, but were disappointed to
find another couple on the elevator.  We'd have to wait until we got to the
room.  There, my hands shaking, I fumbled with the key card, unable to open
the door.  Rick took it from me and effortlessly inserted it in the door;
the buzz let me know I'd soon enter a world I had never imagined.

   When we got into the room he pushed me against the wall and kissed me
with frantic intensity.  His tongue and lips were like a whirlwind driven,
I now know, by years of suppressed need and desire.

   I had to calm him down.

   I turned my back.  "Darling, please undo my dress."

   He grasped the zipper and pulled it down.

   "Now my bra."

   He fumbled with the snaps.  His hands were shaking.

   "Take your time, they're complicated."

   He slowed down, unhooking the snaps.  I turned back around, letting my
dress fall to the floor and tossing my bra onto a nearby chair.  I was
wearing heels, stockings, garter and panties.

   "I'm sorry Mom, I'm so nervous.  I've wanted this, waited for it, for
years."

   I glanced down at my body.  "I hope you're not disappointed."

   "Oh gosh no, Mom.  You could never disappointment me.  You're
beautiful."

   "I want to see you," I paused, "naked."

   He started to fumble with his clothes.  I held up a hand.

   "Please, let me, I'd like to do it."

   I unbuttoned his shirt, ran my fingers along his hairless chest, and
kissed his nipples.

   "I guess I wasn't paying attention.  When did you become a man?"

   "Do you really think so?'

   I pressed my hand against his erection, drawing a sharp exhalation of
air from him.  "Oh yes I do, yes, I most certainly do."

   I removed his shoes and socks, undid his belt, and pulled off his pants.
I carried his clothes to the closet, carefully placing them on hangers, and
then took my time strolling back, giving him time to examine my form.  My
eyes, on the other hand, were locked on his underpants, which were tented
by a very impressive pole.

   I kneeled down and removed his boxers.

   "Wow!"

   "It is okay Mom?"

   "Its better than okay, its magnificent."

   His cock was at least an inch and a half longer than his father's and
much thicker.  It was heavily veined and purple in color, the head a dusty
brown.  His ball sac was thick and heavy.  The irony struck me.  His
father, who had often derogated his son's masculinity, carried around a
water gun compared to this cannon.

   My mouth was watering.  My husband complained that I didn't suck his
cock enough but, I thought, he was not offering me something like this.  I
looked at it hungrily.

   "Honey, do you mind if I taste your cock?  Suck on it?"

   "No, no, I mean yes, I mean its okay Mom."

   I asked him to lay on the bed and crawled on after him.  I wrapped my
fingers around his dick.  I was perplexed by exactly how to approach it. 
"My god honey...you're so...  big."

   I ran my hand up and down his tool.  I brought my face close to it,
loving it's earthy masculine smell.  I kissed it, licked some pre-cum from
the tip, and then, stretching my jaw as wide as I could, closed my eyes,
and thought here goes nothing.  I took several inches into my mouth.

   "Oh gosh Mom...ohhhh goshhhh...," he moaned.

   He was big.  I started to gag, but he already seemed insecure enough
about his bedroom skills.  I suppressed the gag reflex and bobbed my head
up and down as long as I could before releasing him.  His fat member was
covered with my saliva.  I studied it while sucking my numb lips into my
mouth to restore the circulation.

   "Did I do good, baby.  Did I suck it right.  Do you want Mommy to suck
your cock some more?"

   When he nodded yes I licked the length of his tool.

   "OH gosh Mom...yes...oh fu..." he stopped.  Had he ever cursed around
me? "Oh yesssss..."

   I wrapped my mouth around his cock and moved my head up and down while
licking and sucking him.  I studied his face, his lips were parted and his
eyes closed; he was immersed in the pleasure my mouth was bringing him.  I
cupped his testicles.  They were tightening up.  He was getting close!  I
thought all the better, that way he would stay hard longer when the
inevitable happened; when I took him into my cunt.  I juiced and spasmed at
the thought.

   "Oh god yeasssss...Oh Mom...," he said over and over again.

   I came up for air.

   "Do you like it."

   "Yeah, it's better than I imagined."

   "You've got a beautiful delicious cock, son." I thought for a second and
then decided to say it.  "Mommy wants you to come in her mouth before she
fucks you."

   I took him back into my mouth.  He was in heaven, moaning loud, pre-cum
dripping from him.  He put a hand on the back of my head but quickly
removed it.  I placed it back on my head, letting him know it was okay.  He
gently ran his fingers through my hair.  I kept sucking and lavishing
affection with my tongue.  I decided to see how much more of him I could
take into me and soon he was banging against the back of my mouth.  I
played with his testicles, fondling the source of his cum.  He was becoming
more excited; his hand on my head forced me down, cramming more of his dick
in my mouth.  The thought of him taking control sent a shock wave through
my cunt.  I surrendered completely, taking my cue from him, letting him
move my head up and down, letting him determine how hard and fast he'd fuck
my face.

   He grunted and his fat testicles retracted into his body; the sweet
creamy stuff shot up the length of his tool and filled my mouth.  I
struggled to capture every delicious drop, making a show of savoring his
jism, my face aglow in pleasure.  A drop or two escaped from the corner of
my mouth and fell onto a breast.

   He was wide-eyed, staring at me.

   "How long have you dreamed about me sucking you off, darling?"

   "Don't remember the first time.  It's been, like, forever.  You're the
sexiest sweetest woman in the world."

   "You sure?  You haven't met them all."

   "I'm sure."

   I lay on the bed next to him, my head on his shoulder, my hand rubbing
his chest.  His arm ran down my back.  For awhile we were quiet, then I
spoke.  "Are you ready to return the favor?"

   "Yes." His voice faltered, "It's just that, I've never done it before.
I'm not sure how.  I've practiced a lot in my head."

   "Well, I'm sure you'll be the best Mommy-eater ever.  Let me show you
the basics."

   I spread my legs.  This is my vagina." I sank a finger inside, letting
off a low growl.  "Sensitive inside, sensitive outside." I ran the wet
finger from my cunt to my asshole, sighing happily.  "This is my perineum,
sensitive and generally underappreciated." I placed my hands above my
clitoris and spread my labia.  "The labia, sensitive and also
underappreciated, and," pulling its hood aside, "the clit, very very
sensitive."

   He placed his hands on the sides of my vagina and licked the opening.  I
squealed.  He did it again, harder.  I jumped.  He spread the lips and
curled his tongue, pushing it inside and moving it around.  I moaned.  "Oh
baby, that feels so good."

   He throughly explored my sex with his tongue, cataloging how I responded
when he licked each nook and cranny.  I squealed in delight and his
confidence quickly grew.  He became more aggressive.  His licks became
stronger, less tentative.  I relaxed and focused on what he was doing to
me.

   "Oh that's it son, so good, you're a natural pussy eater, you're doing
so good."

   My flow increased.  He licked the length of my labia.  He massaged my
perineum, using my pussy juice as lubricant.

   "Uuuunnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

   He repeated the motion, this time pulling my labia's lips apart.

   "Ohmigod, honey, honey, put a finger inside me." The tone of my voice,
so needy and desperate, surprised me.

   He sank a finger inside me.  It roamed around while he licked and kissed
my labia, at times sucking its lips into his mouth.  I rocked my hips,
causing the mattress to ripple underneath us.  He found my g-spot.

   I jerked.  "Oh fuck, unnnhh..."

   He stopped a second and looked at me.  He didn't understand what had
just happened.  "Are you okay?"

   I looked him in the eye.  "Oh baby, its so good, never been this good.
The place you touched me inside, it's a special place.  I'm so close.  Suck
my clittie."

   He lowered his head and his tongue pushed aside the hood of my clitoris
and teased the exposed nub.  His finger alternated between exploring my
pussy and returning to my g-spot, whose location seemed hard-wired in his
brain.

   His cheeks concave, he sucked my clit into his mouth while licking and
lapping it.  It was the most intense experience of my life, my being was
centered on the fire between my legs.  The sensations in my clit, which
shimmered like the waves on a pond, combined with the deeper sharper
sensual pleasure of my g-spot and vagina.  My stomach and pelvis merged; I
was a single pressure cooker.  I grabbed his head and pulled him tight to
my crotch.  He looked at me, his eyes on my face.  His eyes were beautiful.


   Then it came, an unworldly explosion, powerful waves of euphoric energy
spread through me and went on and on, overwhelming me, leaving me unable to
perceive anything but the cataclysm between my legs.  My clit became
hyper-sensitive and I yanked my son's head from it, moving him to my
vagina. He drank the juice pouring from me and licked the opening,
prolonging this seemingly immortal orgasm.  Finally, I could take no more
and pulled his head away.  He crawled up the bed.  I lay my head on his
shoulder and he held my quaking body.  My left leg was shaking.

   We were still.  I was breathing deeply, enjoying the warmth of his body.
After a few minutes I excused myself and stumbled towards the bathroom to
wash my face.  I dipped a finger into myself, my pussy was soaked with
cream.  When I returned he was laying naked on the bed, legs spread.  His
cock, although not fully erect, was thick with blood.

   "Mom, you're beautiful."

   I thought I must look a bedraggled mess, but there was no artifice in
his face.  When he looked at me, I felt beautiful.

   "Rick, what you did, just now, it was amazing.  I love you."

   "I love you too Mom.  What happened tonight, I've dreamed about it for
years."

   "Good honey, but it's not over yet.  I need this," I ran my finger up
the length of his penis, which became fully erect before I reached the
crown, "between my legs.  I mean, if that's what you want?"

   He smiled, a kind loving munificent smile.  His pulled my head to him.
We spent several minutes kissing and xploring each other's mouths.  I felt
his erection against me.  He seemed in no hurry, but it was time.  I rolled
off him and onto my back.  I spread my legs.  "Honey, please, I need you
inside me."

   Rick straddled me, but looked unsure.  I soon realized why.  At first he
tried to slip his dangling penis into me without success.  He then took it
in his hand, but still couldn't find the correct angle to enter me.  It
came to me, despite his talented mouth, he was a virgin.  I took hold of
his penis.

   "You've got quite the cock, baby." And then, my voice a bit quieter. 
"Will I be your first?"

   His tone revealed that he was not sure what I'd think of his answer. 
"Yes."

   "I'm glad honey.  I'm glad you waited for me.  I'm glad I'm here for
you."

   I fit the head of his cock into my vagina and he slid in.  He was stiff
as iron and I soft and yielding as a pot of honey; there was no resistance.
When he was all the way inside he stopped.  I put a hand on his ass to keep
him in place and stroked his face.  I pulled him to me, tickled his tongue
with mine, and withdrew it into my mouth.  His tongue followed and we
shared long kisses.  The obvious delight I was taking in his kisses
emboldened him and he started fucking me, moving in and out while rolling
his hips against mine.  God it felt good.  I started gasping, then moaning,
a thin sheen of sweat covered my body.  I pulled his head to the side of
mine and whispered in his ear, "Oh god son, fuck me, fuck your mommy."

   Rick started to increase the pace.  I wrapped my legs around him,
guiding him, letting him know what I wanted.  Our bodies were soon rocking
together, his cock sliding along the roof of my vagina, the crown catching
my g-spot.  Our pubic bones rolled over each other; I ground my clit
against him.  I massaged his thick meat with my fuck muscles.

   "Oh, Mom, does that ever feel good, so good."

   "Ohhhhhhh, baby, you're right, so good.  Mommy loves it.  Mommy loves
your cock."

   My inhibitions disintegrated as the delirious consequences of my
incestual lust became manifest.  My son and I were made to fuck each other.
I wanted it.  My vaginal muscles gripped him, trying to pull him all the
way inside.  It was where he belonged.

   "Oh, god Mom, that's beautiful, it feels so good."

   "Oh, ah, fuck it!  Fuck it!  Yes, son, yes, fuck it!  Fuck it!  Yes,
that's it!  Fuck!  Fuck!  Oh, ahhh, that's what I like!"

   I had never known this kind of desire.  Sex, for me, had become a duty.
Now I saw that sex, combined with love, was a gift from god.  The wild
sensations fluttering through me were without restriction or purpose, they
were the product of unadulterated love and desire.  I had never know how
exciting it could be to just be fucked.  I worked my snatch around Ricks'
cock, hoping I was bringing him half the joy he was bringing me.

   "Oh, Mom, that's it, fuck, fuck, yes, yes, that's what I like.  Oh, yes,
yes."

   He lifted himself and looked me in the eyes.  I saw in his face what I
felt in my heart, love and desire, the deepest emotion and the rawest lust.
He rammed his dick into my cunt.  I was getting hotter and hotter.

   He closed his eyes; his face contorted.  He was about to pour himself
into me.  The thought of my son emptying his balls inside me redoubled my
desire.

   "Ohhhhhh, shit, I love it, I love it, I love it.  Give me your cum!"

   This was the kind of fucking I had thought only existed in one's
imagination.

   "Ohhhh, Rick, honey, your cock feels so fuckin' good in me."

   He shouted, "FFFUCCCKKKK MOOMMMMEEEE...," his body stiffened and I felt
his cum pour into the boiling depths of my box.  As he came I was consumed
by a mind-blowing orgasm.  My uterus, pelvis, and anus contracted,
squeezing his pistoning tool even harder.  A kaleidoscope of lights
overwhelmed my mind.

   I next remember laying under him.  I heard his deep breathing and felt
his chest rise and fall.  I struggled to catch my breath.  A sticky liquid,
a combination of my juice and his sperm, trickled down my ass crack,
soaking into the bed.  I closed my eyes.  The whole world consisted only of
my happy satisfied sex, my boy's warm beautiful body, and the love that
seemed a palpable substance in the room.  I was close to passing out.

   "Mom, are you okay?"

   I opened my eyes.  A broad smile spilt my face.  "Oh baby, okay doesn't
begin to describe it."

   * * * *

   I woke first the next morning.  I looked at my son, sweet contentment
evident on his face and headed for the shower.  I had started to wash my
hair when Rick stepped in.

   "Let me," he said.  He stood behind me and ran his strong fingers
through my scalp.  When done he let the water run through my hair, rinsing
away the lather and suds.  I turned back to him.  He was so beautiful,
everything was perfect, and I loved him so much, but I knew this could only
be a temporary reality.  I felt like I needed to warn him.  "You know, this
can't go on forever."

   He had anticipated me.  "What happens in New York stays in New York?"

   "Something like that," I weakly responded.

   "Well, we're still in New York." We embraced.  Our tongues roughly
explored each other's mouths.  I caressed his erect penis.  Rick's hands
roamed over my back and ass.  I released his dick and pressed my body
against him, enjoying the feel of my soft tits on his hairless firm chest
and his hard cock on my wet stomach.

   Rick seemed confident of his appeal to me.  He kissed me and slipped a
hand between us, taking hold of a soapy slippery breast and working the
nipple with his thumb.  I returned my hand to his erection, pulling up and
down its length.  The heat between us intensified.  He backed me up against
the wall and gasped, his voice burning in barely controlled ferocity, "I
want to fuck you." He was shaking with desire and, I realized, so was I. 
Our need for each other had jumped from smoldering to conflagration; it was
overwhelming, all consuming.

   I spun around and placed my hands on the shower wall and reached between
my legs for his cock.  Unlike last night, however, he needed no help.  He
quickly found my channel and drove his entire length into me.  I moaned,
deep, lusty, and loud, as he filled me; I matched my wanton thrusts to his.
It felt so good.  I wanted his cum inside me.

   Rick gripped my hips tightly.  He may have been new to fucking, but he
knew what I needed.  He took me hard and fast.  Each time he slammed into
me I bucked into him.  Our pace increased exponentially.  All I could think
about was how good it felt and how much I wanted his cum, my son's seed, in
my twat.  Obscene desires filled me, I wanted him to blow his hot young
balls up his mother's warm wet hole.  I wanted his semen.  It was time for
him to fill the place he'd left eighteen years ago.

   Rick did not disappoint; he cried out and poured his jism into me.  My
pussy clenched and twitched around his spurting cock and I was subsumed by
an orgasm.  Rick kept going, grunting over and over as he filled my
quivering happy pussy with load after load of his cum.  I groaned deeply;
my orgasm reached a second peak.

   When my climax passed and I was sure Rick had fully emptied himself
inside me, I straightened up and leaned back against him.  His cock slipped
from my warm pussy.  He wrapped his arms around my stomach.  I pressed back
against my son, loving the feel of his arms holding me tight.

   We stood together for several long wonderful minutes, but Rick couldn't
long resist the allure of my breasts and his hands soon slid up my stomach
and he caressed them until my nipples stood straight and hard.  I let out a
soft moan, leaned back, kissed him, and then turned to face him.  Our
mouths met in a deep, slow kiss that seemed like it might never end.  Rick
massaged my ass and then ran his hands up my side, returning to my breasts.
I slipped a hand down to fondle and stroke him.  He was fully erect.  I
centered the head on the opening of my vagina and he entered me.

   We fucked for a long time.  Rick was shorter than my husband, just the
right height for a standing-fuck.  Our pace was slow, leisurely, patient.
He held me against the shower wall and ground his body into mine.  His
pelvic bone trapped and massaged my clitoris.  At times I stood on one leg
and hooked the other around his, allowing him to drive deeper inside me. 
While it limited my movements, Rick still found ways to rock me back and
forth, varying the way he moved within me.  I looked into his eyes, kissed
his lips, eyes, and cheeks, loving the closeness of his body against mine.

   I came over and over.  Not the kind of orgasms that make you scream and
beg your lover to stop, but the kind that make you whimper and pray he
never does.  Eventually Rick's motions became jerky and uneven.  I could
see him trying to hold back, trying to delay his orgasm, but I wanted him
to come.

   "Rick, honey, come inside me.  Give me your cum.  I'm your Mommy-lover
now and you're the best lover ever.  I love you son, I want your cream. 
Please baby, come inside me, give Mommy what she wants."

   Rick grunted, hard, short, and deep, and filled my quivering pussy with
his sperm.  Feeling his cum triggered another orgasm and I murmured sweetly
as my body shook around his cock.

   We were both spent.  I held my son.  His penis softened and fell from my
satiated pussy.  We remained like that for a long time, letting the water
flow across our bodies.  I loved the feel of his body.  We lingered in a
long embrace, comfortable with our nakedness and each other.

   Rick eventually moved his hands up to my breasts.  I let out a gentle
happy moan and kissed him.  He teased my nipples until they were stiff and
pert.  We exchanged a deep loving kiss.  Rick massaged my ass.  I slipped a
hand across his stomach.  He was hard again.

   "Ricky, why don't you put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door."

   to be continued....


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