Mother Turn Last Night’s Dream Into Reality

Alone in bed with my dirty secrets, and squeezed around JD’s father like two spoons, I try desperately to wash away the thought, and warm the chill that begins with guilt, shame and the sinful, then transforms itself with each accelerating beat of my heart into irresistible desire and the urge to touch, kiss, arouse and experience the sexual pleasure that only a mother and son can share.


“Maybe last night was all a dream,” I say to myself the next morning as I stand alone, naked before my bedroom mirror.

I unwind the towel from around my hair, bend and touch my toes, look down over my breasts at the faint stubble, beginning to show between my legs. I shake my head, as I stretch and lift my arms to the ceiling, fingers spread, nails red like Mars, in a white sky.

Beyond my reflection in the mirror, I notice the slightly open bedroom door, the hallway beyond, and JD’s blue jeans and red flannel shirt, as he passes by quickly, on his way to the stairs and down to the first floor.

“What are you doing up this early JD?”

JD doesn’t answer, but I hear the sound of his footsteps, as he returns to my bedroom door.

I continue to stand in front of the mirror, my back side to the door, and wait for the moment when our eyes will inevitably meet in our reflections.

My chest heaves and my nipples are tight and erect, at the mere thought; as my mind wavers, caught between the illicit temptation, my overt acts of seduction and the need to somehow return to any sort of a normal relationship between a mother and her son.

I feel the goosebumps on my ass and the growing warmth between my legs, as I catch my first glimpse of JD’s eyes, peeking through the doorway.

I watch as his eyes move down to my lips, which I cannot help but notice are now slightly blue, puffy and bruised from our tryst in his bedroom, just a few hour ago.

My mind returns to the though of him seated in his chair, me in my nightie, down on my knees, his pants and underwear down around his ankles, my hands squeezing his balls, the head of his cock swollen and hard, my mouth and tongue gliding down onto his shaft, feeling the licks and the suction and the pain of of my teeth pressed against my lips, urging his hot creamy load deep into my throat.

I stand up onto the balls of my feet, grab my hair in my hands and tie it up into a knot on the top of my head, as I feel JD’s eyes burn into my neck, down my back, and land on the the smooth round curve of my ass.

“I’m sorry JD, I don’t know what to say.”

“Last night, it was like a dream.”

“I could barely sleep and I woke up this morning feeling alone, guilty and totally ashamed.”

I don’t know what to do or what’s wrong with me.”

“How can i be your mother and yet want you and want to be with you like this?”

I watch JD’s eyes as they avoid mine. JD stares at the reflection of my breasts and nipples in the mirror, then down into the gap between my spread legs. I hold my hands over my breasts and then down over my pussy, as if trying to cover and hide the as he approaches.

I immediately catch the fragrance of his youth, the fresh shower and shave, the detergent in his clothes that I wash and fold.

With my mind and body torn between the need to resist, and the desire to succumb, JD takes the knot of my hair in his right hand and reaches around and down between my legs with his left. His middle finger feels wet in my pussy and then soft and exciting, as he teases me with his fingertip over and around the base and crown of my clitoris.

I feel his lips against my neck and then his hot whisper of breath in my ear.

“I love you too, mother,” he says.

I let out a sigh, as I fall back, almost weightless into JD’s arms. I hold my hand over JD’s and guide his fingers deeper into my wetness.

The bulge in his jeans feels rough against my back, and I try desperately to lift up onto my toes and ride him with my ass.

“Oh my God, JD.”

“What are you doing to me?”