My Son’s Seed Ch. 1


I didn’t usually go into my son’s room. But, that June day I was dying for a smoke and thought I might get a pack from Brian’s carton of cigarettes. Now that he was 18 and had graduated from High School a week ago, he smoked openly in front of his dad and I. I knew that he sneaked smoking, like I did, so as not to make my husband angry. In some ways Brian Sr. was an old fuddy-duddy.

My spouse was a good man but not one I would have married if I hadn’t got knocked up, at the end of college. I was stoned at a frat party and thought that a roll in the hay with the BMOC (big man on campus) would be hot. Well, he wasn’t that big and he wasn’t that fun, but he did get me with child.

My parent pressured me to marry to avoid scandal. He was a good catch in some ways. His family had tons of money. He was handsome, polite, sweet, athletic, funny, smart, considerate, loving; and completely unimaginative in bed. Not bad, even if not so big, but I had to be the aggressor, the innovator, the seducer. God! I had no idea what the women whom he had affairs with saw in him.

Sure, I knew. I could tell, or someone told me eventually. I didn’t care too much after the first two. As long as he did out of town. As long as he didn’t talk about them. As long as he kept paying the bills. As long as there was some cock left over for me when he came home from his ‘business trips’. As long as I didn’t care, what the hell? As long as I had batteries for my vibrator. As long as I could have affairs too.

But I didn’t. Not that I wasn’t tempted – or even flirted on the sly and tried to. But unfortunately, for little old horny me, nothing had ever jelled into a full flung fling. At least not until . . .

The carton of cigs was on Bri’ Jr. desk beside the ashtray. I took out a pack, pealed the plastic and popped the flip-top. I used the matchbook next to the beer can. Well, the kid was eighteen, what’s the problem with a beer at home once in a while? I was sure that Jr. didn’t drink much, never saw any sign of it; not on his breathe, not when he came home late but sober, never any of our alcohol missing from the liquor cabinet.

I sat down on the chair and took a long puff. There was one butt in the ashtray but an awful lot of ashes. More than from one cigarette, that’s odd I thought to myself. I always loved mysteries. I was a regular lady Sherlock Holmes. My favorite books as a child had been that girl detective series, you know what’s her face . . .

My thoughts were interrupted with another discovery, another clue, another piece of evidence. A seed. A marijuana seed. I had smoke enough weed in college to know what it was. It was black and round and in the middle of some ashes. Not cylindrical ash, but conical with a length of paper with the remains that the incriminating particle rested amidst. A seed of weed, a telltale sign of sin, a giveaway of grass; the smoking gun of the son of a gun pothead.

So that’s why he didn’t drink! He had another kind of buzz on. Shit! Now I wanted to smoke a joint, not a butt. Damn! How long had it been? Five years since that Christmas party at my brother’s house. At least he had a liberal wife, who let him do a doobie once in awhile. Where was Brian’s stash I wondered. I had to find it. I was not going to settle for booze when I could catch a buzz.

I started with all the obvious places, then went to the less evident ones. Nothing, not even under the bottom draw of the clothes chest where I used to hide stuff from my folks. I had told that one to BJ as we called our son sometimes. But, I hadn’t told him about the other I had had, because I still used it to hid things from ‘old BS’ as I sometimes thought of my louse of a spouse, though I suppose I shouldn’t grouse, we did live in a nice house. Jeez! Now I’m rhyming. Well, no luck I might as well strip the pothead bed, another rhyme . . . I could a been a poet.

What if Bri’ Jr. thought of the second secret place too? The bed, not under the mattress, under the springs! I went to get my hand mirror from the bathroom. When I bent down on the side my son slept on and used the mirror, it was there! Tucked up under the springs with a short flat board for support was the old cigar box he had gotten several years ago from his uncle. I bet my brother never thought it would become my kid’s stash-box! Would he get a laugh!

I reached under and wiggled the box out. I placed it on the desk and sat down again. BJ was out somewhere, and BS was at work, and I was in for some playtime! I opened the wooden box and saw a large plastic bag with an assortment of items. Brian Jr. had inherited all of his dad’s good qualities, including smart. The big plastic bag was to prevent any stink of illicit activity from giving the game away. I dumped out the contents on to the desktop. I took inventory.

metal pipe with cap
folded paper
computer floppy disk
candy tube
dirty magazine
a funny looking balloon thing


Hell, no grass? Where’s the dope? Was he out? Was he out scoring a lid right now? I picked up the pipe and unscrewed the cap which had a hole in the top. Eureka! A bit left in the bowl! I rescrewed the cap back on. I picked up the lighter and sucked the flame down the hole. The draw was good, and I had a huge toke in my lungs all at once. I choked to hold the smoke in and put a finger on the cap to put out the fire.

It felt like the smoke was going to blow out of my ears, like some silly cartoon. Great hit, but I hated to lose all that potent smoke. I don’t know where the idea came from, it just seemed to make sense. The funny balloon; a balloon with a short plastic straw taped to it’s mouth. A toke saver! Quickly, as I was starting to do the heevy-jeevies from holding a toke too long, I pluck up that odd item and blew into the tube. It expanded as expected, and I plugged the exposed straw end with my finger even as I gasped for breathe.

After several wheezings of air, I was winded but game and I put the plastic straw to my mouth and sucked. Bad move. I got some smoke into my lungs, but way more into my tummy. I coughed then belched out the acrid smoke. My eyes burned, my throat burned, my chest burned, my . . .

My head got dizzy, too little oxygen, it began to settle and then something else was making my head feel funny. PREMO! One hit inhaled and I was getting fucked up already! I took another hit from the pipe, but it was only a small one as there was just a tiny toke left. I blew into the balloon again and when I regained my wind I carefully sucked the toke-saver empty. Just a smidgen of smoke in the stomach this time.

OKAY! a little buzz, but I wanted bigger. I also detected the first inklings of the munchies. I picked up the candy tube and opened the top. just a few candy bits came out when I poured. But then something else slid out too. A glass test-tube, with what might have passed for oregano, but was certainly an herb of a different sort. Brian John Jackman Jr., you sly and slippery so and so, you do have more Maryjane for momma!

I reloaded the pipe and took a measured hit, one I could handle. When it came time to re-ingest from the smoke saver I did like a Vicks inhaler, held one nostril and snorted with the other. That worked just fine, no smoke in the belly. I was high and happy by the time I reached for the folded paper to see what that was about. It was a poem. It was an original poem written by Brian Jr., I recognized his handwriting. It was a poem that would have upset me if I wasn’t semi-wasted. But I was with a buzz, and stoned alone at home, I read the poem.



Her son said:
O mother dear, would you please share my bed?
Snuggle with the baby you once breast fed.
O come to bed my mother dear,
O mom please lie down, and lay with me here.

Murmured his mother:
To hug and to hold you next to my breast,
Sweet as that ‘twould be, ‘twould be not best;
You’re a big boy now, and ‘twould not be right,
To climb into your bed and spend the night.

Her offspring offered:
Your loving son, does want you near,
And when you come, wear something sheer?
Or come without a stitch, and slip undercover,
As if you were going to meet your lover?

His mother replied:
O no, neither in a naughty nightie,
Nor as naked as blushing Aphrodite!
Have you become an impish peeping-tom,
The female charms to spy of your old mom?

Tell me true, do you mean to really rest?
Or does your insistence mean you’re obsessed;
What is the real reason for your request,
Desire for some naughty Oedipal incest?

Her son rejoined:
Would it be so very sinful to have some fun.
By dallying so with your sexy son?
Mother, please answer now with the truth,
Are you not a bit attracted by my youth?

He stepped up to her, and with both his arms,
Encircled her waist, but this sets off alarms;
She retreats a step, and then she looks down,
At first on her face surprise, then, a frown.

His mom scolds:
O brazen boy what’s that come between us?
Is that straight, stiff, staff I feel, your penis?
How rude of you to poke my precious bod’,
With such a long and strong, and stout a rod!

Long have I been living, without a spouse,
You wear only briefs around the house,
And parade your manhood’s erect pride,
In proud prow forward fashion, nothing hide!

Her child chided:
And am I not to notice what a hot
Enticing feminine figure, you’ve got?
With semi-transparent nightgowns dreamy,
Or tanning in the sun in your tiny bikini?

Walking past, wrapped in a bath towel much too short;
Seeing you so, is what made me so sport
There, under my underwear, my erection;
‘Twas your body inspired it’s direction.

Her youngster entreated:
O please ma, don’t make me have to wank it,
Come and let’s play under my soft blanket,
And there will I, when we’re between the sheets,
Delightfully nibble on your sweet treats!

Going to make you cum, lickity-split,
By tonguing your slit, and suckling your clit!
I know I’m being rather crude and blunt,
But, O mom, how I want to fuck your cunt!

His mom did listen, and with her deep love
Heard his horny need and the truth there of;
She pulled him close, and gave into her lust,
Responding to him, her hips gave a thrust.

His mother confided:
Use your young tongue my son and make me slick,
When we make love, please use your every trick;
Make me multi-climax licking my clit,
Don’t ever stop, ‘til I beg you to quit.

Then take your thick dick, wriggle and wrestle,
That veined tool into Venus’s Vessel.
You’re taking a trip up Memory Lane,
Re-entering mommy’s womb again.

O Baby, if that’s the way we cuddle,
Your bunk’s gonna have a big wet puddle.
So give me your spunk and make me cream,
Plug up your ears, ‘cause when I cum, I scream.

Her lover laughed:
Then down with my skivvies, sexy mother,
And with smooches my plum you may smother.
Your kid’s cock, is getting hard as a rock,
Just from watching you taking off your frock.

I want to study each and every curve,
Appreciation you so well deserve;
To run my hands over every square inch,
Give these tender nipples a gentle pinch.

So the son led his mother to his bed,
He went down on her and she gave him head,
He mounted her as she spread wide her legs,
And did his best to fertilize her eggs.
His mother promised:

From now on, every night, I’ll tuck you in.
Knowing you, as I do, we’ll fuck again.
And that’s just fine with me, if we do screw,
Your lust to have me, I’ve had for you too!
I sat stunned. Well, it’s not epic poetry, it’s not even good poetry, but it certainly was . . . was . . .

I flipped over the dirty magazine, which had laid face down since being dumped out of the plastic bag. The phone sex ads didn’t interest me and I had assumed it was just another girlie publication. I had been more eager to smoke pot. Now it’s title starred me in the face, like looking at a woman that my husband had an affair with. Only it was like looking in a mirror at the same time. The title told me what I already knew it was all about, having read my son’s naughty poem. The banner read in big bold red letters across the top, “STORIES OF MOTHER LOVING SONS”.


I always get very horny when I get stoned. I had not had an opportunity to let my mind wander in the direction of masturbation, before I was so unexpectantly accosted by BJ’s awkward artistic endeavor. It’s not that I was flabbergasted by the notion of incest. I had taken a couple of psych courses in college. I even made out with my own brother one the summer before I met Brian Sr. We didn’t go all the way though, he was too chicken!

I knew my son was handsome and had no trouble getting dates. I was unsure if he was sexually active, i.e. a virgin still. I was sure that it was only a matter of time, a short time at that, if he hadn’t gotten laid yet. I never thought of having sex with him up until now. I had noticed, now that I thought of it, that he paid me compliments on my looks and physique much more lately.

And that must be the reason he seemed to barge in on me when I was only partly dressed. He even once caught a brief glimpse of me in the nude! I had thought it was just teenage fogheadedness of forgetting to knock and I never lock my door. I hadn’t been embarrassed by the occasional instances, but now I see what the curious cat was up to! A peek at what Papa was puttin’ it to. Well, what stories were in this mommy mag anyway. Did Bri’ have a favorite?

I opened the dirty publication and flipped through it. Grease spots in the middle clued me in to the start of a story called “TV With Mom”. I began to read the story which had turned my son on. I wondered if it would turn me on too? I took another big toke, held it as long as I could, thought ‘to hell with the balloon’ and blew out the puff . . .


by Trojan Snake

It started out late one night, innocently enough, between my mother and I. We were watching TV together down the family the room in the basement, the summer after my graduation. Dad had gone upstairs to go to sleep and wouldn’t wake up until morning. He was always a heavy sleeper and his drinking was a part of that.

Mom and I were viewing a French romance movie about a love affair between a younger man and an older woman on the cable arts channel. The TV guide had said it was going to be a comedy, but that wasn’t what was aired. We had been initially disappointed when we discovered that it wasn’t what we had hoped to watch, but in a few minutes we began to be intrigued by the plot and characters, each for our own reasons as it turned out.

Mom was dressed in her terry cloth robe and a sheer nylon nightie; all I had on was a pair of boxer shorts. I sat on the end of the couch while she took the middle. I had always admired her beauty and was wondering how she was reacting to the film. I asked her a pointed question. “Mom, do you think an older woman might be interested in so young a man?”

She made a funny little smile and answered the query in both an amused and musing tone, “Perhaps a grown woman might find a youth attractive.”

Sensing more to the subject than she had volunteered, I pursued the topic, as the couple on the TV clinched in their first kiss. “Have you ever found anyone, say, young enough to be your son, a guy you might want to make love to?”

“Well . . . can you keep a secret?” she replied. I nodded. “Once, that friend of yours, who moved away last year, Jimmy Boyle?” (Jim had been my best friend in my Junior and Senior years of high school.) “He came to the house one day looking for you, when you were out.”

My mother was blushing. “He came upstairs to see if you were in your room. I had been in the shower and didn’t hear him ring the door bell, but the house was opened. Thinking it was you, I called out, asking for a towel to dry myself off with. I had forgotten to get one from the linen closet.”

“Well, he got one, but then instead of identifying himself and handing me the towel through the door, he brazenly walked into the bathroom. He held it so that I had to stretch and reach out and ask that he hand it to me so I could cover myself. I was naked and suddenly both frightened and stimulated at the same time.”

“Just as I did grasp the towel from his grip, he took me in his arms and gave me the best French kiss I’d had in ages. I could feel his hard on through his pants and I got very turned on, I admit. He is handsome, and has a cute set of buns, from what I’ve seen when he was over here swimming with you.”

“But you didn’t do it with him?” I pressed, fascinated by my mother’s story revealing a whole new and sexy side of her I had only suspected.

“No. We didn’t do anything. I broke contact, and just then the phone rang. I ran, still naked, into the bedroom to answer it. By the time I got off the phone and put on a robe he had cooled down and I think he had lost his nerve, because he stammered an apology and ran out of the house.”

“Would you have done it?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. It was so erotic and unexpectantly romantic!”

“You would have cheated on dad?” I said frowning.

“Your father and I’d love each other very much, and nothing will ever change that. But, Honey, honestly . . . both he and I have on occasion given into temptation. And then we forgive each other, and try to do better next time we’re tempted.”

“Would you ever do it with a younger man?” I was rather blunt.

“Maybe, if he were very special, and the right guy.”
“Who said I was still a virgin?!” I replied.

“You aren’t?” My mom said the surprise.

“Well , I’ve had couple of girls let me do it.” I boasted

“Anyone I know?” Mom asked

“How about Barb Mudd?”

“Really?! You got our neighborhood ‘Miss Pris’ to give up her maidenhood to you?!”

“Right on this very couch!”

“O! David, you little devil!” She said in admiration for her son’s conquest.

“Mom?” I asked all of a sudden, “do movies, like this one, turn women on?”

“Well, most women like to watch romantic scenes, and not all like to see the more graphic details.”

“Were you turned on by the love scene?

“Yeah, kinda, but I’m more turned on by hearing about your sexploits right here in our basement!”

As if it were planned, mom’s robe opened in the front a bit and through the translucent material of her nightgown I could see her pink nipples. I couldn’t help staring at it. They were erect and the tips stood out like the erasers of new pencils, pink and firm nubs. Mom noticed my sudden quiet, then looked at my eyes and glanced down to see what had transfixed them. She blushed with embarrassment and drew her robe together.

“They’re very pretty!” I said trying to make her feel better about her momentary exposure.

“Thank you,” She said softly. Then she noticed something down in my lap and a large grin broke across her face. This time it was my turn to follow her gaze to see my erection poking out of the fly of my pajama shorts! “Fair is fair!” Mom said, as I started to put my prick back in. She reached over and stopped my hand from doing what I thought she’d have me do.

But then she really surprised me. She shrugged off her robe from her shoulders so that it dropped to her waist and her breasts were barely hidden by the translucent nightie. She ran her tongue over her lips wetting them in a sensuous manner. “You can look, but don’t touch, David,” Mom said with a kind of huskiness to her voice. She then slid the nightgown’s string straps off her shoulders and it fell to her waist exposing her exquisite tits, rosy pink nipples and beautiful full, firm curves. The twin mounds of my delight barely sagged without support. My pecker poked out even more as my eyes locked on target.

“Let me see all of it,” she almost whispered and she reached over and pulled my shorts down to my ankles. Of course, I had a seven inch boner by this time! “It’s even bigger and thicker than your fathers!!” She exclaimed.

“Well you don’t complain about his when he fucks you. He satisfies you pretty good, from what I hear!”

“David! Have you been listening at our door?!”

“Yeah, and I masturbated a thinking about fucking you Mom.” I couldn’t stand it any longer and I swept my arms around my beautiful mother and gave her a kiss, a deep tongue kiss, which last for several minutes because my mom was kissing me right back.

All that time we were chest to breast, nipple to nipple even! I felt her soft, plush bosom compressed warmly against my own pects. A much more sensual sensation than squeezing a teeny-bopper with tiny titties indeed. Give me a grown woman from now on!

Then we came up for air. “David, we shouldn’t been doing this, it’s too dangerous. I let this go too far because of the movie and our sharing of intimate secrets, and . . . because I think you so handsome that I wanted to see how you were down there, but I don’t mean to tempt you, that is I don’t think I should . . .” She stopped in mid-run-on-sentence because I had put one of her hands down on my hard penis. Her hand closed about it. Her eyes roll upward and she let out a little moan.

I reach out then and let my hands explore the soft Wonderland of white mounds topped by the erect rosettes. Mom began to play with my meat tube stroking up and down. I bent my head down and she gasp as she felt the tingling sensation of my lips suckling on her breast. Her hands went to my head to caressingly, holding her baby once more, to her tender chest awakening now with a passion unleashed and the desire to be seduced by the man who was her boy.

I maneuvered her so she lay back fully on the couch. Mom whimpered futile protests against further exposure to my eyes and otherwise, as I slipped her nightie down over the hips and down her legs so that it was completely off. None the less, she had cooperated by lifting her hips. I kicked off my shorts and now we were both totally naked.

I returned my attention my mother’s mouth, as my fingers began administrations playing with her already red erect buds. Her taste was so sweet as we French kissed, our tongues dancing was so exciting and erotic. She now stretched full-length on the couch and I knelt on the rug beside her, this allowed her hand reach down to throttle my rock hard cock. She found it oozing pre-cum and smear it around the tip.

Meanwhile, I moved my hand down to feel between her legs. At first she shook her head no and mewed negative sounds. But I continue to brush that fuzzy bush, realizing that her cries now were of yielding to lust. I used my digits to rub her pubic hair especially at the juncture of her moist and most intimate spot, then slipping the middle finger in between. Her limbs, little by little, opened up for me and once I was able to massage the clit she no longer fought the losing battle, she spread wide and let me stick my fingers in to probe and see just how wet was that very hot inlet.

It was time then to mount this most sensuous of all women. I climbed up between her legs on the couch. She began a final attempt to stop the inevitable. As my cock rubbed between her thighs she brought her legs together somewhat, her hands went to my hips trying not to let me settle my weight upon her. But, I just gave her a deep French kiss again and her resistance melted away.

Her arms went around me and clutched my back, pulling me toward her heavenly haven of incest’s sin. Her knees rose to cradle the baby she had birthed, receiving into her carnal canal the son she once suckled. Mom opened her thighs in invitation to invasion by my flesh to become one with her flesh, a true union of love in unison.

Going down on her and all of the other fun activities we would eventually share was to come later. These will be recorded in their proper order. But now I needed to stick my dick into my mother’s very ready cunt and thrust upwards back to where I was born from. I was headed to return to the womb from hence I came. I pressed against the pliant breasts from whence I was weaned. My ass was raised like a sprinter’s ready to race, the raunchy course a wet track for my relay baton.

She elevated the angle of her hips exposing her cleft for my thick pole to transgress. Her wet hole was a shiny coral grotto of gratification awaiting my entrance. Then I lowered my body and rocked, so that my cock slid up the split over past the inner sanctum. The sex scepter plowed the bright flushed flesh, teasing her clitoris, just brushing the entrance to my mom’s hole. Up and back slithering, my wand wallowed in prelude to the playground of pure lewd pleasure.

“Oh! David, take me, please!” She begged.

I couldn’t refuse her plea. I moved my dick to occupy nirvana’s refuge as mom’s gorge engulfed my dripping meat. Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, I returned inside my mothers sacred sanctuary, the holy of holes, now wholly filled with hot transgression. Never had I felt so incredible a sensation. It was almost boiling, a drenched slippery tube, and so tight. Like an elastic sleeve that barely stretched over my penis.

I pushed to the end for long seconds until our mounds mashed together, our pubic hair entangled, our flesh strove for unity, and I bumped against the divine grail. Like a socket of electricity, it sent a current of shock up my backbone and burst in my head. I was plugged in at the very place where I had been conceived. The entrance to my mother’s womb, where sperm and egg had become me.

I ever so slowly withdrew, straining to catch every second of tactile connection. Then, just as gradually I reentered, wanting to make the instant last as long as possible. I ground our groins together. I felt the protuberances inside with the tender tip of my penis as far as I could reach within. Out, to almost separated but still touching, angle and aim adjusted, and my mast plunged in slow motion, magnifying the moment.

But the impetus of my momentum could not be held in check for long, and my thrusts into her sheath began to quicken, a flashing sword buried in the scabbard of love. Mom’s tits with the eraser nipples push into my chest, two firm pillows cushioning my ride atop her body. My arms went around under hers, holding onto her, squeezing the woman I loved. Her arms extended so that her strong soft hands pulled my bottom to hold me even deeper in her, if that were possible.

Our gasps and moans, calls and cries merged to together in a symphony of total abandon. That most erotic of rhythms seemed to go on and on. We both froze in an instant of overcoming intensity, lock together by mutual lust, and then we began again to drum our bodies in the smacking timeless timpani of carnal appetite. The motion of my hips beat in the urgent answer to mom’s pelvic pushing. My action went back and forth, in and out, up and down, even side to side; driving us both to sobs of ecstasy.

Mom began to bawl, “Yes David, do it to your mommy. O! Make me cum. Do it, Honey! O! Baby I’m so close, you feel too good. O! Ooo! Yes! Yeesss! you are . . . I love you, Baby! Fuck me! Give it to me hard! Now! O! YesYeYess nownow!!!” Her hips moved upwards and her body shook in great racks as she released a tremendous orgasm.

At this I began my own peak. “O! Yes mommy, I love you too!! I’m going to squirt in you mommy. I want to make a baby in you, mommy. O! uhh! Ahh!! Yes, now me too! Yess moomm! Here it cums, noww, noww! Feel it? I’m creaming in you mom. Ooo! Moommmyyy!”

I felt my prick grow what seemed like another half inch as it started to spurt and spewed gobs of baby making juice into my mother’s vagina. I drove into her body so deep and hard that I could the feel the tips of the womb collide with my cock head and it struck with every stroke. Throbs after great throbs squeezed out semen, which went on for longer than I had ever cum before. Finally, it subsided into pulses of after-shocks, until my love muscle went soft, shrank and slid out of its home.

“Honey!” my mother said trying to catch her breath, “That was the best I ever had. God! What stud you are!”

“There’s more, if you want to raise me up by going down.” I replied.

“Absolutely!” She smiled and we shifted, so that I now laid prone on my back on the broad couch. Then she bent over between my legs put her mouth over my penis and started to suck. (continued next issue)

When they got naked in the story, I slipped off my tee-shirt and played with my nipples. Oh! Was I turned on, high and hot and in heat. When he began to play with her, I pulled off my short skirt and panties and rubbed my clit. Yes! I was wet and wild and willing to do it with the next man that walked in the door. When he entered his mother’s pussy with his cock, I stuck two fingers in my cunt and sawed in and out. I was nude without clothes and naked without inhibitions, nasty without a caring who saw me and nothing could keep me from cumming.

As he pumped his incestuous semen inside his sexy momma I came too. I howled and hollered, screamed and creamed, I drenched that chair. What a cum! God! What a mind blower, what a pussy blow-out! Premo dope, knowing my son had the hots for me, and reading his favorite dirty story of incest between mother and son. It was the most incredible masturbation session I had ever had. And I didn’t even need that damn dildo! I raised up a bit and leaned on the desktop with my elbows and took another deep hit.

In that position, in that pose, in that compromised stance; the next man that walked through the door was my own boy. I stood straight up, a bit too quickly as I wobbled slightly. I looked my young man in the eye as he was getting an eyeful of his old lady. I smiled blew out smoke and gestured to the cigar box and contraband scattered asunder on the desk. In sing-song I sang, “I~ knoow~ yourr~ see~crettss~!” His face went white. I feared he would faint. “But I won’t tell if you won’t tell.” I quickly added. “Especially, BS, I mean your father. Jeez’! Would he be freaked out!” I started to laugh, and couldn’t stop.

I went into hysterics as I realized that I stood naked, dripping of cum, a pot pipe in my hand, with a open adult magazine, in my son’s room, with my son bug-eyed, and his penis tenting his pants. Then he crossed the room and held me and I began to sob. Bri’ hugged me and whispered that it was all right, it’s all right he kept repeating. He stroked my hair and lead me over to the bed.

Next week, PART 2; The computer diskette and then the couch!
“Mom you are something else!!” I said and scooted next to her and gave her a great big kiss right on the lips, with my arms around her. “Thanks for sharing that with me, I feel that it makes us closer. More like friends.”

Just then the movie began the love scene between the teenager and his older paramour. I sat next to Mom with my arm around her, draped over her shoulder. It was lightly resting on the top of her chest. We watch the drama of passion unfold, being cable they were showing quiet a lot; buns, tits, even her dark triangle of pubic hair. In the dark, he mounted her. We both watch the screen in silence as the boy went down on her and then entered at her urging. They both were moaning loudly, as they came the bed shook.

After the scene dissolved to the next morning, my mother, not looking at me said, “Well I was just about convinced that they really did!”

“It sounded real!” I replied.

“How do you know what it should sound like, if you’ve never done it?” My mom asked. Looking at me with a twinkle in her eye.

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