I meant it. That was the truth. We met each others’ eyes. He started sitting up and pushed me back. His far arm reached around and touched my naked thigh, gently pushing it, guiding it up and opening my legs.
“I can’t help it,” he said. I wondered if he meant he couldn’t help getting hard or he couldn’t help what he was doing now. Pushing my legs open.
“It’s okay,” I said softly.
I bent my knee and set my foot on the bed. His hand glided firmly up and down on my inner thigh. I could feel the air on the material of my panties as my legs spread.
I had no choice but to close my eyes. My forehead slowly went forward against his, our lips inches from one another.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I was wet, too?” I whispered. I turned my head away slightly, otherwise I think we would have started kissing and making out.
“Yeah,” my son answered. His hand was gliding down my thigh, further and further. Closer and closer. After I had turned my head, he shifted his body forward in order to look down between my thighs.
I’m not sure what he could see. It was dim in the bedroom, and I didn’t think that the sheer lacy material discolored that much from being wet. But I had told him I was wet. And there was the warmth emanating from my sex, maybe a light barely detectable scent of my arousal. I was fucking turned on.
Then his hand dropped. Slowly and deliberately. His whole palm cupped my sex. He felt the warmth emanating from it. He felt my wetness. I rocked my hips and pressed against his hand.
Ohh God.. A second later, I had grasped onto his powerful cock through his pajamas and just held it. It was rock hard. Pulsing. He pressed his palm against my damp mound, increasing the pressure on the area around my clit. We were breathing heavily into each others’ face. We were about to kiss.
“Mom?” David sighed. I opened my hand from around his erection and softly rubbed my palm on the underside of his cock and balls.
“It’s okay, baby,” I whispered slowly as I massaged his male parts. I rocked my pussy against his hand. “It’s okay,” Our mouths closed in and our lips touched. Softly, slowly and gently. My mouth parted and my son licked my tongue. I licked his back. Again and again. At the same time his hand went beneath the waistband of my panties and made contact with my wet, naked cunt.
“Jesus, Mom,” he moaned, reacting to feeling my shaved, smooth and soaking wet pussy. I pressed my tongue hard into his, stifling a whimper. As I tasted my son’s mouth, I reached beneath his pants and grasped onto his naked cock.
We were kissing. I was kissing my own son passionately, and he was kissing me back, savoring every second. We were touching each others’ sex. It was surreal. I pushed his pajamas down his thighs, and his cock sprung free. My fingers grazed up and down his length as we kissed. One of his fingers had slipped between my slick pussy lips and was grazing up and down my slit. Suddenly David pulled back. My hand was empty.
I watched my son grab the waistband of my panties and pull them all the way off in one motion as I involuntarily raised my legs and bent my knees. His pajamas were halfway down his legs and he was naked above that, his cock standing straight up. His cock pointing at me.
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