I was wearing what was being called a big dress. It had a strapless boob tube type of top that covered my breasts, but showed a deep cleavage and was tight down to my waist and then flared out until it reached my ankles.
“Don’t you like it?”
“Yes it’s lovely mum, but why are you wearing it?”
“I just felt like dolling myself up a bit.”
“Well it certainly works.”
He came up to me and took me into his arms. “You look lovely mum and I so want you” he muttered as he kissed me and pressed his hard cock into the softness of my tummy.
“Peter sit down we have to talk.”
“It seems that’s all we do.”
“What?”
“Talk. I want to do, not talk.”
Knowing what tonight was almost certainly going to bring I smiled as I poured the wine and went to where he was sitting at the kitchen table.
“Let’s go and sit in the courtyard” I suggested. It was quite a suntrap especially this time of evening. We sat on chairs nearly side by side. It was lovely and warm. I brought the bottle out in a glass cooler.
Taking my spare hand in his he said. “What time is he going to be home?”
I ignored the question.
“Peter what we have done so far is bad but the situation isn’t irretrievable.”
“What do you mean?” He asked running his fingertips wonderfully suggestively up my forearm and stroking the inside of my elbow. It felt nice so I didn’t stop him or move my arm away. His knee pressed against mine and I didn’t move that either.
“We haven’t gone too far.”
“I know that Cat, we haven’t gone far enough” he whispered, now softly stroking the inside of my upper arm and pushing his knee between my knees. I thought I should stop him, but didn’t seem to have the resistance. I knew, though, that what I was about to say had to be said.
“I mean we haven’t actually had sex have we.”
“Well I thought masturbating each other was sex, or am I being silly?” He asked his fingers sliding into my armpit.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes mummy” he muttered leaning forward, kissing me on my lips and adding. “I haven’t fucked you yet have I?”
Slightly crude though that may have been, the words hit home hard.
“No Peter we haven’t made love and that is what I want to talk about.”
“Go on” he said running his forefinger in and out of my armpit as though it was a cunt and he was finger fucking it. That was so suggestive I nearly stopped and said ‘Fuck me now.’
“We are at a crossroads Peter. Turn one way and we put this behind us and our future life is uncomplicated. Turn the other and there is uncertainty and confusion, guilt and concern and, if we’re caught god knows what.”
“Yes and pleasure and excitement. And we both want it.”
“A mother and son having sex is something that we will have to live with for the rest of our lives. I am not sure I can do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well with your father, it’s so unfair on him.”
“Dad’s a selfish prick mum, he leaves you too much, he should stay home more send someone else on the fucking business trips.”
“Maybe, but that’s how we are.”
“And I bet you and he don’t have sex much any more.”
“Now now stop it Peter.”