I know it was stupid, but I believed what we were doing, as kinky as it was, was not incestuous. Somehow if I remained steadfast about never sucking my son’s cock or taking him in my ass, I would able to accept and eventually normalize being naked around him and letting him masturbate his cum all over my body. It’s funny how the mind can conjure up a truth we can live with, isn’t it?
Mark would be a few hours. I could get dressed, but I didn’t. I wasn’t going anywhere or having anyone over. Besides, I could be naked whenever I wanted, with him or not.
I discovered over time that being naked prompted an ever-increasing number of masturbation sessions, some of which were elaborate and extended over the course of the day. One Sunday, I challenged myself to rub my clit to the edge every hour on the hour from dawn until I went to bed. I was sore by the end of the day, but it was so hot to be so aroused. A bonus was that for at least half the time Mark watched me. I told him what I was doing, and he would show up at five minutes before the hour, sit down like a patron at an adult theatre, and wait for the show to begin.
I became more daring as the day went on. By the time evening came along, I was craving sex, craving a cock in every hole, but my rule remained intact. But there was nothing in the rules about not bending over in front of my son, bending over and reaching underneath to rub my pussy with a big butt plug in my ass. He masturbated onto my pussy while I teased it with a vibe. Another time he released a stream of cum into my hair while I spanked my pussy with my hair brush. I got wild and it scared me, but not enough to stop me from being a wanton woman around her son.
This went on for months. We ended up having rituals. In the morning I would sit at the kitchen table while he masturbated on my face. In the evening I would ride a suction cup dildo fixed to the hallway wall and squirt all over the carpet, then bend over in front of him so he could cover my ass with his warm release. We had a few little episodes where the rules were broken though only for second. One time he leaned in to kiss my cheek good bye and I turned and for a few delectable moments our tongues entwined. Another time, his cock slid between my labia. Mark was whacking off furiously and didn’t notice that he kept thrusting his cock into my slit. When he did, he pulled away. I was a tad disappointed to be honest but also appreciative of my son’s promise to abide by the rules.
. . .
It’s been three months since I started my job and yesterday George gave me my three-month review. Short story is that I got high marks and a raise. I had brought in 15 new accounts, a few of them worth 7 figures per year and I had increased business with established clients, in particular Bob Martin’s company. He was happiest when I dropped by every couple of weeks. I dressed for him and he had to know it. I get the occasional slap on my ass, sometimes even a squeeze and each time I titter and smile, and say, “Oh Mister Martin. You are incorrigible.”