A Lifetime Kink Ch. 07

Stevie's eyes opened wide in honest surprise. 'Wow, and that...'

'I mean it's just good that you don't feel guilty about it anymore, and that you can enjoy just being yourself. That's all I ever wanted for you...'

Stevie warmed considerably inside, and felt her heart melt. He had been right after all, and this was the first time she'd really had a chance to accept that, and in his presence. If anything, to be so open was a compliment to the fact in itself, but now maybe they could admit anything.

Lee was now smiling at her and their eyes locked for a good long time before anything else was said. 'You know that nobody else in the world has a son like you?' Stevie complimented.

'But I do wonder how many mums sit reading incest erotica right next to their sons, looking at them every couple pages like they're replacing certain visual descriptions,' Lee raced to add before any denominators could cut him down.

Stevie blushed and closed her eyes. 'Okay Sherlock, fair game,' she replied, which easily translated as "you got me". And then she dared to ask; 'How does that make you feel - knowing?'

In fact; 'How does it make you feel knowing that I fantasise about you sexually?'

'You know what I think,' he said, forgetting that the shoe was once on the other foot, regarding a similar conversation.

'I asked how you feel,' she corrected him kindly. 'It's okay,' she cooed disarmingly when he became shy. 'I'm not going to bite. Tell me. I've never asked.'

'I only ever feel loved, mum,' he assured her. 'Just sometimes a little harder...'

'You feel loved harder or your cock feels harder?' Stevie asked before they wound up giggling together. Yes, though, his cock had been noticeably hard as of late.

'Okay, both,' he actually dared to admit. That was a revelation in itself to Stevie, who suddenly found herself looking at him differently. Lee noticed.

But it wasn't like he could deny it anymore, especially seeing as he was almost constantly hard in her presence, or whenever she had left him alone with food for thought. Stevie radiated heat from her sorely dimpled cheeks now as he battled with his words. 'It can just be a lot to take in.'

'So could you, big boy,' she wanted to say. She chose a more daring choice of words instead.

'But when it's in...' Stevie smirked a little and held her silence, revelling in the awkwardness she had caused. The double-entendre had hit its mark.

And still she was not done shocking the both of them yet with her newfound honesty. Stevie was on a roll now. It was all rolling off the tongue now. 'When I was trying to find the words to express what I felt... you know... when I'd walked in on you masturbating...'

'Oh Jesus,' Lee groaned. 'Not this again.' He rolled his eyes in response.

Stevie, feet up beside her, kicked him in the thigh, causing him to rock. 'No, look at me,' she insisted, and he did.

'I wrote it down to un-jumble my mind. Of course I considered maybe letting you read that, but it descended into utter filth. I didn't know if it would be so inappropriate that it would make me out to be some desperate freak. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to read something like that!'

Silence!

'You wouldn't want to read your mum's fantasies, would you,' Stevie exclaimed rather than asking. Lee's continued silence held her in suspense. 'That's really all they are,' she remarked nonchalantly.

'They just happen to be fantasies about you,' she wanted to add. However his expression read nothing of dismissal or rejection. Maybe he simply couldn't sum up the nerve to say so, but he clearly appeared fascinated.

'You did just let me read what was on your Kindle,' he said, trying to justify his building curiosity. Oh good lord, he did want to.

'That's different,' Stevie warned. He considered. 'This,' she said, holding up the device in her hand, 'is fictional fantasy.' She could have stressed the point more, but she didn't want to scare him. She wanted his curiosity.

'What's the difference?'

'I didn't write this. What I wrote is strictly between you and me, and it isn't just a hint to what goes on in my filthy imagination, Lee. It's a confession of complicated feelings that I've had to contend with. It's a confession of how I feel about you, and us, when I consider that I'm not the only one with a... virile imagination.'

With those two last words she smiled coolly, trying to hide the rising heat she felt within. His eyebrows arched, his eyes diverting to the Kindle she waved between them. Again he looked at his mother and shrugged.

'Okay I guess...'

Was it? Of course it wasn't.

'It could be one confession too far. It could change everything, like the way you see me, and the way you speak to me,' Stevie explained, revealing deeper concerns all the while. 'Though I'd like to think that we can be adults about it and maybe talk about it, I do worry that I could push you away.'

'Well I'm still here, aren't I,' Lee offered. And yes, Stevie supposed he had a good point. Looking back it was a surprise that he hadn't run for the hills the day this all began to pour out.

She nodded slowly. 'Yes you are.' After a pregnant pause she asked; 'Would you want to read what I really feel and think about? I'd be happy to let you, if you wanted to...'

'Do you think I should?' Lee asked, and left it entirely up to his mother.

After careful consideration, Stevie contained herself and then nodded, as if also to herself. If anything it would knock down one more boundary between them, and maybe the greatest of all. 'If you can answer me this...'

'Okay,' he affirmed, waiting.

'Do you think you could handle discussing it with me after you've read it?'

'Of course, mum,' he assured her.

8

Midnight passed and she wrote like a woman possessed, her fingertips speeding across the keyboard like those of a concert pianist. Propped up against the headboard of her bed, in a fortress of pillows, the laptop rested hot against her thighs.

It seemed all the more intimate that she rewrote her confession for Lee, wearing nothing but a pair of boy shorts so flimsy that they felt like nothing at all.

Laid out as naked as her thoughts and feelings, once again her willpower failed as she attempted to keep it as frank and heartfelt as possible. Frank and heartfelt was not in fact possible, not without giving way to lurid, daring honesty.

And as 1am passed she sat proofing and editing her confessional to her son, knowing that if anything it would give them more than just something to explore in words.

But if they were going to open up to each other, she was adamant that this was the way forward. What she couldn't say face to face, at least right now, she could at least express on the page and let him consider it in his own time, and in the privacy of his own room.

Stevie began to imagine the effect it would have on him, and that in turn began to have an effect on her that would not be denied. Happy for now with what she had written, she saved her progress and locked away the document, sliding the laptop to the side of the bed, and then slipped out of her shorts.

Opening her thighs, she traced a line down her tummy and into that familiarly dangerous territory, and closed her eyes to think about the talk that might come of this. And she wondered if her fantasises and his were so different, in ways other than personal perspective.

So-called experts claimed that men, "in the bedroom", were more visually stimulated, while women derived greater pleasure from the emotional aspects of sex.

If that was true then how did youth and promiscuous sex account for the best years of so many women's lives? Instead it likely accounted for so much misery today. There could be no double-standards in love and sexual satisfaction.

Get it while it lasts!

Stevie loved her son deeply, but deeply was the operative word when it came to fantasising about being sexual with him. The visions of him sliding that stiff bully of hers into her juicy depths, and of the body language between them in the heat of such moments, had her clit hard as a bullet.

She would want to see him pumping his hips to drive that hard cock inside her. She would want to see the frenzied state she could whip him into as she got on top and took control. She would want to look down and see herself bearing down on his shaft, feeling herself melt around his throbbing length and girth.

The knowledge that he saw this in his own mind as he wrapped his hand around that magnificent thing and thought of her...

She came quickly that night, and in quick succession too. Her body already stiff with suspense, the knowledge that her words had the power to change everything intensified the sensations she caused herself - deep desire, love and fear, all concentrated into one hard drug.

Whereas she had fantasised about sex with him so many times, frequently and vigorously - and it was no secret now that he did the same about her - this now brought into question the possibility, and probability, of the real thing.

And she would want to be able to reach a point where they could sit together and talk about the real thing. By the rule of escalation, that was the rule of sexual fantasy and attraction.

That was why most boys and girls grew out of experiencing such desires for their parents, but he hadn't. Stevie having that desire for her son, another improbability once upon a time, was what drove them this far.

And now god only knew what came next if not this.

To be continued...