A Different Kind of Love Story

"That's definitely you," Tristan whispers to me as we're both staring at a half-naked mannequin dressed only in a tiny t-shirt and terry cloth skirt so short it would probably just barely covers my ass.

There's just no since in denying to myself anymore that this is how he's looking at me now, and even though the young sales girl watching us probably thinks I'm just another horny cougar teasing her boy-toy with thoughts of getting between my legs I'm quite sure she'd be shocked to discover who I really am. The truth is that so many people have confused us lately as being anything other than mother and son, and luckily for me all my years of exercising and having a naturally slender build is why I'm able to even fool women my own age. It's just seems so easy for me to slip from being a forty-one year old into the mind set of someone ten or even fifteen years younger when I'm with him, and the looks on all the waitresses faces when they serve us because they think I'm letting him fuck me just makes that ache between my legs even more intense.

As hard as it is for me to admit it the reality is that I'm more in sync with him than I ever was with his father, and now it's just evolved to the point where we've become almost inseparable for the last year or so. We hike, bike, jog, and talk, talk, talk about politics, sports, religion and anything else that comes into our heads, and now we're even beginning to finish each other's sentences too. He's become not only my best friend but also all the other things that a lover is supposed to be, and short of not sharing my bed with him yet we've gone as far as a couple can possibly go without becoming one.

In so many ways this is all just seems too good to be true, and sometimes when I'm lying in bed frantically fingering myself as I imagine my mouth riding up and down him I wonder if all of this is just nothing more than a sultry dream I'm having. But the funny thing about all of this is that I've been waiting patiently for some sort of rebuke from my inner self because of all the thoughts that go through my head whenever I look at him, and the only replies that continue to come to me day after day are the tortured screams coming from between my legs. Nearly five years of being both a widow and celibate have put me where I am now, and I'm caring less and less about fires of hell that await me if I take him as my lover.

"Is that how you see me," I ask as my eyes lock onto the enormous bulge in his jeans.

Maybe it's just a case of all my frustrations overwhelming my senses but more and more when I've seen his pants bulging my woman's intuition keeps telling me he's a lot bigger than his father was, and I've clicked on enough movies in his computer and seen so many boys his age with organs so big that they barely fit inside all those beautiful young actresses bald vaginas. Just the image in my head now of him mercilessly riding me is threatening to buckle my knees, and does it really matter how big he is as long as he can keep pumping me for hours at a time I hear a voice whispering inside me as the thought of getting on my knees and wrapping my lips around him is suddenly beginning to take hold inside me.

"C'mon Katie, you know you want to show me those long legs of yours," he whispers as I feel his hand slowly sliding down my ass.

Sometimes I feel like I'm leading a double life with the way I have to balance Kathrine Myer the 3rd grade teacher with Katie Myer the sexually starved widow who's on the verge of ripping her own son's clothes off and riding him until I've thoroughly exhausted him of semen. Of course now that I'm on summer break Katie has become the dominant one who seems to be drawing me ever closer to spreading my legs for him, and because he knows me so well I'm sure he can sense just how close I am to actually doing it too.

"You want to see a lot more than just my long legs, don't you," I ask as I'm regretting wearing jeans so tight that my every movement is a combination of both agony and ecstasy seemingly somehow mixed together so exquisitely?

Surprisingly one of the biggest turn-ons for me other than the sight of his pants straining to contain his erection is that he's been calling me Katie for quite some time, and in an odd way it's just making it easier for me to divorce myself from looking at him as being anything other than a nineteen year-old hunk who wants desperately to slide inside me. We've just become so close that to deprive each other of what we both know we need seems almost unthinkable to me now, and with each new spasm that's hitting me between my legs I can already feel myself surrendering to him.

"You know what I really want to see," he whispers in my ear as his fingers begin to glide effortlessly between my thighs that I've given him free access too.

My God Kathrine do you know what the two of you are doing right in front of one of the nearly dozens of cameras that Sear's probably has positioned all throughout the store, and all those memories when I use to sit in his father's car with his hand rubbing me just like this almost seems ironic in a way. But there's a part of me that's wondering just how many slits he's worked on like this before, and just the way he keeps going back to the sweet spot tells me he knows a lot more about that beast living between my legs than I thought he did.

"You see anything else that you want me to get," I moan as my hands trembling almost uncontrollably picks up the tiny top and skirt as that ache deep inside me is becoming almost intolerable to bear with the way he's teasing me.

"You need a bikini," he says softly as he pushes himself against me and I feel just how hard his organ is as the eyes of the sales clerk is taking in every detail as though they were a camera recording every salacious moment.

He just has no clue about the fury that I'm going to unleash on him once we get past this stage we're in now, and the thought that he'll be able to easily take me maybe two or even three times a night already has my imagination racing out of control. Boys his age routinely masturbate at least a couple of times a day without a problem, and being as starved as I am for what's going to explode out of him I can already tell that I'm going to be utterly ruthless with my demands on him once my taste buds feast on his thick creamy treat. Jack use to tease me all the time how I always wanted more, more, more of what came out of him, and as I feel my ass rubbing up against him I can already sense he's got my genes when it comes doing all the nasty things that I love to do once I take my clothes off.

"Why should I get a two piece when I'd rather not be wearing anything at all," I say as I begin to stagger towards the sales clerk who obviously is very flustered with the way her face is turning bright red because of how we've been misbehaving in front of her.

"That's such a cute outfit," she says so sheepishly as she begins neatly folding the skimpy top and skirt and placing them in a bag.

"Something tells me I won't have it on very long," I say so softly that I doubt even he heard me as the young girls face begins to blush even more profusely.

I don't quite know why her distress seems to be adding to my arousal, and as I'm feeling both emotional and physical signals converging in a way I've never felt before I can tell she's sensing some of the issues that I'm struggling with now. Just forgetting the fact I'm his mother still leaves me with the body of a forty-one year old, and even with all my dieting and exercising can't change that brutal truth that every morning I'm going to have to look in the mirror and worry about whether or not he'll still find me desirable. But no girlfriend or wife will ever do the things to his cock that I will, and I have a feeling by tomorrow morning he's going to be looking at me in a completely different way.

"I wish I could be you tonight," I hear her say as my hands still quivering takes the bag from her as I suddenly realize she just made my decision for me.

*

"Honey, you still awake," I ask as I stand at the foot of his bed trembling so terribly that I wonder if he might actually be able to feel the vibration in the floor because of how much I'm shaking.

It's too late to turn back I hear that now familiar voice whispering in my ears as I feel his eyes eagerly going up and down my body, and with my vagina already fully lathered and demanding that I finally end her agony she's seemingly keeping my legs frozen in place just in case I might try and make an attempt to flee. But the telltale bulge in the sheet is only sealing my fate as I allow myself to imagine what it's going to feel like when he finally slides inside me, and I just knew the second I felt his hand sliding down my ass a few hours ago that I'd be standing where I am now.

"Just tossing and turning," he replies as we both know the real reason I'm standing in front of him completely naked.

This all just seems so surreal with the way his room is barely illuminated from the night light next to his computer, and if I didn't know any better I'd swear this is all just another sultry dream that I'll awake from with my fingers buried deep inside me. But this isn't a dream, and even though I have no idea how I'm going to reconcile what's probably going to happen between us tonight when we're kneeling next to each other in church tomorrow morning it's just too late for my conscience to intervene no matter how much guilt she's threatening to thrust upon me.

"We have to talk," I hear the words coming out of my mouth as I slowly begin to edge myself closer to him.

I need to feel him inside or my fear is that I'll go into a deep depression like I did a few years ago, and even though I managed to eventually work my way through it without letting him become aware to the extent I was suffering this time he's too attuned to me that attempting to fool him will only prove to be futile. In so many ways we've already become so emotionally intertwined with one another in a way only reserved for lovers, and trying to deny ourselves the pleasures of each other's body's only seems like a delaying tactic by what's left of that side of me that thinks these feelings I have for him are immoral. But I know what I feel for him is genuine, and I'm sure his perusing of me is based on love and not just driven by his need to get off in any slit that makes itself available to him.

"I've fallen in love with you Kate," he whispers the very words I've been praying for weeks now that I would hear coming off of his lips.

He just knows me in ways that even his father never came close to doing in nearly 15 years of marriage, and of course being his mother I can equally read him just as well. The simple truth is he adores me, and whether it's going grocery shopping or helping me set up the bingo tables Tuesday night I can always sense his almost obsessive need to be near me. Maybe I should have put a stop to all of this when I first felt that ache developing deep inside me whenever my eyes fell upon him, but it's just gone way too far to worry about that anymore. He wants me and I want him, so what's stopping you I hear the words echoing in my ears as I feel a wave of relief beginning to smother me.

"I've fallen in love with you too," I reply as our eyes just stay locked together as our bodies are silently communicating about all the pleasures that await us once we get this much needed formality out of the way.

For so long now I've been driven to heights of utter arousal whenever I imagined seeing him in the nude would flash inside my head, and I'm sure my melancholy of a few years ago was a direct result of the internal struggles that I was going through because of it too. But somehow I managed to work my way out of it, and those first few orgasms after I finally accepted my attraction to him were unlike any I ever experienced. I don't know how but I'm sure he could sense my eyes stealing images of him that I'd later used to get myself off, and the fact he started walking around the house with only a pair of skimpy gym shorts on merely confirms it too.

"You're so beautiful," he says as my fingers still trembling start to slowly peel the sheet off of him.

The truth is that even some of my friends have made comments about how he's built just like one of those models in the Calvin Klein ads we all drool over whenever we see them, and even my best friend Amy has made it perfectly clear all the things she would do to him if he ever made himself available to her. I suppose I should have put a stop to her describing so explicitly what she would do to him, but all I could manage to do was cross my legs trying to placate the ache that kept building between my legs as she went on and on about how she'd ride him all night until his balls were drained of all their semen. She and I both knew we were getting off to what she was saying, and I think in a way it might partially explain why I'm standing here now.

"So are you," I whisper as my eyes are finally confronted with an image so erotic that I'm beginning to wonder again if this isn't just a dream after all.

My God he's huge, and as hard as I'm trying not to just focus on his erect organ it seems like that's all my eyes are capable of seeing now. For months I've measured and re-measured the bulge in his jeans telling myself that it's just my imagination playing a trick on me, but this is no trick, and the fluids trickling down my thighs is only telling me that I'm ready to lube his entire length once he slides inside me. I know Jack had to be at least 5 or 6 inches in length, but any thought of sliding this beast down my throat like I use to do to him is already coming into doubt. Then again maybe it's just 5 years of celibacy distorting all my perceptions about what my eyes are showing me, and the feeling of my heart wildly thumping inside my chest is just adding even more pressure on me to take him inside me.

"Am I dreaming," he asks as my legs feel as though they're about to collapse because of the strain I'm putting on myself now.

"If you are then I'm having the same dream," is all I reply as his eyes work their way up and down every part of my body as if they were the lens of a camera.

Oh Dear God I love what he's doing to me now, and as my legs suddenly begin to climb on top of the bed as though I have no control over them I know I have to slide him inside me before either one of us loses our nerve. But we both know there's no chance that is going to happen, and as I can already feel him pressing against the lips of my princess I just know deep down inside I'm doing the right thing.

"You're so big," I whisper as I feel his swollen head gently parting my lips as my eyes desperately try and estimate his length and girth before he completely slips inside me.

"Do you know how many times I've wanted to sneak into your room and bury myself inside you," he whispers as I feel myself swelling internally in a way like I've never felt before.

It's just so obvious that he's done this before with someone else, and as he so gently pulls me down towards him the thought of that skinny Schafer girl he dated for a while being split apart like I am now is only adding to my rage. So what if he had her before me I hear those voices whispering to me as my insides try and cope with what's burrowing ever deeper inside me, and just knowing that she's moved a thousand miles away is taking away that surge of jealousy that just shot throughout me. He's all mine now, and once he sees how insatiable I am I'm sure he'll be incapable of perusing anyone else.

"I can't believe how you're stretching me," I moan as he continues opening me just like one of those girls in the videos he has stashed on his computer.

He has to be at least 7 or 8 inches in length that part of me that is still functioning whispers to me as I continue to watch him slowly disappear, and as foolish as it may sound I wonder if my birth canal recognizes that he was the special one who slipped out of me nineteen years ago. But there's no way my body is capable of rejecting someone who I love this much, and as I feel his lips gently wrap around my nipple the image of him nursing from my tiny breasts as an infant suddenly flashes in my head. How ironic is that he suckled from me back then totally unaware that one day he'd return to try and feed from me again, but this time the only nourishment I have to offer him is what's flowing out from between my legs as I'm coating the entire length of his organ with my juices.

"You're so tight," he whispers as I feel him thrust the last inch or so as far inside me as he can possibly go.

He's balls deep is what his father use to say when he had penetrated me with his entire length just like this, and any woman that says size doesn't matter clearly has never been so thoroughly stuffed the way I am now. But the sad truth every woman knows is that we all have to keep hidden from our partners is that yearning we all have is to know what it feels like to have a lover with an organ the size of a cucumber buried deep inside us. I remember how Jack loved it when I worked my mouth up and down him as he watched some freakishly long cock sliding in and out of some jaded actresses over used slit, and God forbid if I ever commented how I wished that it was my pussy being abused by such a huge beast.

"Can you believe that you're actually inside me," I whisper as my tongue begins to tease the inside of his ear just like how I use to do to his father.

That's it honey, enjoy every unique stimulation I'm going to give you as though it's just another piece of a puzzle that we're putting together until our bodies begin to scream for even more pleasure. Maybe in a way my being celibate for so long has given me a new perspective about making love, and rather than just letting him fuck me senseless like his father use to do I want us to slowly work our way up into a frenzy until we can't take the strain any longer. Of course once he starts pumping me I have a feeling neither one of us will be able to control our desires for each other the way we're doing now, and my only true fear about all of this is that he's going to see that side of me that I'm not supposed to allow him access too because after all I'm still his mother.

I wonder what will be going through his head tomorrow morning when he's sitting next to me in church after he's had time to digest all of the wonderful things I'm going to do to him tonight is what I want to know. Of course after he cums inside me I just know I won't be able to stop my mouth and tongue from gliding up and down him and feasting on the salty treat that's smeared all over his organ, and the feeling of his eyes watching my every movement will only ensure that I scrape every delicious morsel off his cock and balls. Jack was always beside himself whenever I did it to him, and for me the taste and smell of semen mixed together with my own fluids acts more as an aphrodisiac rather than an unpleasant chore like so many other women probably view it.

"You're driving me crazy," he moans as I feel him slowly beginning to pull out of me.

He's so big that even the muscles in my rectum are being forced to contract as both his size and thickness seems to be even overpowering them as well, and in all the times my other lovers filled me I've never felt this pressure on my bowels like I do now. It's almost feels like he's stretching me down there too, and to think that this is just the beginning almost makes me wish I hadn't waited so long to climb into his bed. But now he can take me as often as he wants too, and of course I'm not going to be shy either when it comes to needing him relieve that terrible ache between my legs that always seems to be present lately.

"All those years you've spent jerking off watching those naughty videos has finally come to an end," I moan as I feel his hands gently sliding down my back as he's nearly worked his entire length out of me.