“Really darling, do you really mean that?” I asked feeling so thrilled and excited.
“I think so yes, but what about you?”
“I have thought about it so much and in many ways maybe I think it might be best not to start anything.”
“What fuck Clive instead?”
I smiled and replied. “Well no not really.”
“What then?”
“I just don’t know.”
“These last few days have been agonising for me.”
“Why?”
“Having you here, being so close.”
“And for me, oh Peter.”
“Mum what?”
“I don’t know.”
“What shall we do?”
All those years of being his mother and leading and teaching him seemed to vanish as he began to assume the leading role.
“I don’t know, I am so scared.”
The banker in Peter emerged.
“Look, let’s be grown up about this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s both go into our rooms and think about this and the ramifications. Then come back here in five minutes either naked saying, yes let’s make love or dressed saying we shouldn’t and then we never talk about it again, ok?”
I pondered for a moment or two then looking into his eyes whispered. “Yes ok.”
In my bedroom I was shaking with joy and fear. Now that the time was nigh, that the unthinkable could happen, that Peter and I might make love I was scared. All the doubts and misgivings, the fear and guilt were starting to overwhelm me. I tried thinking it through. What would happen if we did and if we didn’t? But of course, I got nowhere as there really was nowhere to get. I ran through everything in my mind, balancing the pluses and the negatives but when Peter called out to see if I was ready I was no nearer my final decision than when I had come into the bedroom and removed my dress. Looking at myself in the mirror, I made a decision. I reached behind my back, unclipped my bra and watched as my breasts sagged just a little as the support was removed. I wondered what he would think of that as I assumed that the girls he had been with would be stick insect thin.
God how I wanted him to see my breasts, caress and love them as I fondled him. I wondered what he would look like naked. No, that was not quite true as I knew what his body was like as I had seen him in shorts and boxers many times. What my twisted, womanly mind was wondering was what would his cock look like? That hit me as well. I had not done that with any other guy I had been with, it hadn’t seemed relevant but now with Peter it was. Why? What was a mother doing fantasising about her son’s cock? God I so wanted to see it, touch and hold it, kiss and lick it and yes, suck it until it spurted its spunk into my mouth. But the ‘what then’ the ‘what’s the aftermath’ and the ‘where do we go from there’ questions took over along with ‘how could I ever tell Sara?’
“One second,” I called back checking my appearance in the mirror not being sure whether I was pleased or annoyed that my nipples were as hard as bullets.
I opened the door and walked out and saw him. I nearly fainted. He was naked, magnificently erect and his cock was all any woman could ever wish for. Long and thick it stretched rampantly up his flat stomach and was like a beacon beckoning me.