by Mikelh 04/20/03
Yes it’s true I went to his apartment that night with thoughts in my head that couldn’t be called ‘nice’. I wanted to get back at him for what he’d done to me months before. Do you know what it is to think about something day after day for months? Well I was going to do him one better…even if he was my son.
That night was the most…I don’t even know what word to use. My most recent lover in a long line had just left me…it would be a joke if the cliché didn’t happen to me…forty-year-old man…twenty-five-year old secretary…enough. It wasn’t as bad as when my husband left me after five years of a happy marriage. He was a soldier that went and got himself killed in a freak accident while training recruits.
My getting blind drunk that night a few months ago was no accident; neither was what my son did. Adam, my only boy…the one I waited for after two girls…my Adam. Adam who had stayed to comfort me after seeing the condition I was in…who helped me into bed. He saw the nightdress came up as I slid down on the bed…he saw between my opened legs. What he didn’t see was panties…how could he when I hadn’t put them on?
Did he think I was asleep? Probably. I did everything I could to make him think so. The only thing I heard was his soft voice say, “Ohhh…God...” My eyes were closed and I was breathing evenly when I felt him get on the bed. I stopped breathing and I was sure he could hear my heart when I thought; my son is going to have sex with me. He didn’t.
When I felt his warm breath on my thighs, I had to stop myself from squirming. When I felt his mouth on my pussy, I had to keep from moaning. When I felt his tongue on my clit, I had to keep from coming. I couldn’t.
When he started, I thought I would bite through my tongue. He licked the wetness off the folds of my pussy and then his mouth and tongue found every crease and crevasse. A few small sounds escaped my pursed lips but he paid no mind. The hardest thing I’ve ever done was not crying out the first time I came. It happened so quickly I was surprised.
The second time I came, I tried to keep my back from arching. I think he didn’t know because by then he was grinding on the bed. I could hear what I imagined was his hard cock sliding along the sheet under him…he was making noises that were partially muffled by my pussy. He was whispering “Gloria…Gloria…Gloria…” My name sounded so sweet.
He reach lightly under my nightdress only once, probably just to feel how big his mother’s breasts were. I felt a slight jolt as his hand crossed my erect nipples. The third time I came he must have been coming too because he would have realized I wasn’t asleep if he hadn’t been in the throes of his own orgasm. He left the room and I didn’t see him until the next morning.
Adam was the last of my children to leave home. Jenna and Renee both married before they were twenty and Adam moved to an apartment, just a few months before the incident. He had stayed that night to support me…be with me…to comfort me. He comforted me too much. ‘Poor’ would be a good grade for what my sex life had deteriorated into. It was the best I had since…I couldn’t remember.
I had no idea how it would go in the morning…if he would say anything…if I would. No one said anything. He gave me a little kiss and told me to hang in and then he left. It seemed as if I thought about that night for a hundred days.
Every parent claims to love his or her children equally. It’s okay to say it to spare the hurt but of course it bears no semblance to the truth. I was much closer to Jenna than to Renee. Between Renee and me it was mostly ‘live and let live’ and she handled everything herself; most of the time she even called me Gloria instead of mom.
With Jenna it was different; there was a strong bond. She came to me with every problem and more often she came just to be in my presence. She hugged and held and wanted to cuddle even into her teens. She never did anything overt but the way she talked about other girls and the way she hugged me made me think she was gay-or something. When she got married, I just hoped it would work out.
Jenna and I shared our feelings and she was the one I usually went to when I wanted to talk. I just wasn’t sure if my ‘problem’ wasn’t too much to share.
Adam was my youngest and that’s only part of the reason I loved him so much. I like males. I like their looks, their feel, and their smell. I was, for as long as I can remember, hyper-sexed. I am now. It never took much: the sight of a flat stomach, a smile, a kind hand, the smell of after-shave, sweat or skin. How many times a day could my body go into chaos? How many times could my brain sent electricity and chemicals coursing through my body?
Sometimes I despaired, I prayed to God to make my desire small, “Please God don’t let them see what they do to me because when they know, then I’m done, I’m lost, I’m theirs.” I lost the ability to tell whether I was using the men or they were using me; whether I was cheating on them or they were cheating on me.
I also missed being married. I enjoyed being a wife and sharing my life. I wanted to be with someone who understood that ‘us’ means more than ‘me’. I was getting depressed thinking that time had passed me by.
Adam was always my handsome boy and just the sweetest child. It brought me peace just to watch him sleep. When he was young he would lie in my arms for hours and I would talk to him about my life as if he could understand. He’d look up at me with those big eyes and say, “Don’t worry…I’ll take care of you mom.”
When he got older, It was me who ended up lying in his arms for hours…he never got impatient…he never got up until I did. On one occasion I told him he was very good to me and he said, “That’s because I love you.” He bent down and kissed me on the lips. His mouth was closed but it was a long kiss for a son to give his mother. Still I thought that the sexual stimulation happened only on my side of the kiss. I was annoyed at myself for my thoughts.
I always felt a certain tension or electricity when we were together. I liked the way he looked and I won’t lie; I liked the way he looked at me. Even before that night I’d had some thoughts a mother doesn’t usually find in her head about her own son; then I wasn’t sure where they were taking me.
I didn’t know how to handle that night anymore and I finally spoke to my oldest daughter telling her of my unthinkable thoughts and even hinted at my shadowy urges to carry them out with Adam. Jenna said, “Mom, why him…don’t you think he’s probably like all men…just looking for a quick screw and then the hell with you? And he’s your son…Jesus…you’re losing it…you can’t…it’s not right to do something that everyone says is wrong…just because you have desires.
I wasn’t sure if she was talking about me or talking about herself. I said, “Why not…it is love isn’t it…do you think it’s so easy to find?”
She got a little flustered and said, “well…I don’t know…you just shouldn’t.” It got a little hot and I figured there was no place for the discussion to go because we were both having trouble separating reason and emotion so I just said, I guess you’re right honey” and left it at that, even though I was anything but settled.
When I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw, I decided to start exercising to get rid of a few extra pounds and put what was left back into the shape I once had. After a few months the work I put in became evident on my body. I was so proud of myself. I wanted to show off for someone.
Adam came over one day and he was telling me about his activities and watching me as I finished the dishes. I turned to him and lifted my tee shirt up to expose my slimmer belly. “Look honey isn’t this good…God what a difference…and it’s so much firmer…come feel it.” He came to me and put his hand on my belly.
It felt nice. I hadn’t had a man touch me in months and for me that was a record. Masturbation kept me in check but it wasn’t the same. Adam said “It’s great mom, but you don’t need to do any more…you feel great. He surveyed my belly with the flat of his and then unexpectedly his hand moved up high enough to make contact with the rounded bottoms of my breasts. My blood started to simmer. I figured he would move his hand down and I didn’t say anything. I felt the springy nipple tingle as his hand kept brushing up to my breasts and he said, “You feel good mom.”
My breathing became audible and I was surprised to hear myself say, “Oh…thank you honey.” It was a strange conversation for a son to be having with his mother but as long as we talked he was fondling me. I waited a few second and said all flustered. “Oh honey …I have so many errands to run…if I don’t get started…” I got up and kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’ll talk to you soon hon.”
When I returned to the empty house after shopping, my juices started to flow. Late that night I called Adam and told him I was coming over; I didn’t ask him. He was a bit surprised and hesitant and then said, “Okay mom, sure…just give me an hour to get cleaned up. When I arrived the place was in some semblance of order and I just imagined what it looked like before I called. We sat and the discomfort he had in my presence of late surfaced. He said, “So what’s up?”
“What’s up? Does something have to be up for a mother to visit her only son?”
He snickered a small laugh and shook his head. “No of course not mom, I’m glad you came. Anyway I wanted to show you this…” He went into the bedroom and retrieved a small collage he had made. It was an abstracted nude of a woman from the back and side. The face was turned away and my heart jumped when I thought that I wanted it to be me. I wanted it to be my body that my son was fashioning with his hands. At any rate I would have found it beautiful even if it wasn’t me and he weren’t my son. He handed it to me and said, “It’s for you mom.”
“Oh Adam, it’s great…I love it…you always do such nice things.”
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