A Thief in the Night

"Yeah, I guess," he mumbles as she switches off the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed.

He feels safer around her in the dark where he can't see her haunting beauty. He rests on his back, waiting, afraid to make a wrong move.

"Don't you want to cuddle with me honey?" In the darkness her whispered voice is somehow even more seductive than ever.

He says nothing, does nothing as she reaches out and pulls him next to her. They find themselves in a spooning position trying to fall asleep. It is hopeless as between the coke and the utter excitement of finding each other after so many lost years, sleep is an impossible dream.

"Are you awake, baby?" Again that whispered voice in the darkness stabs his heart.

"Yeah, can't sleep."

"Me neither. It's probably the coke. We should get up and do something nice and relaxing." She reaches over and flips on the bedside lamp.

"Like what?"

"Hmm, how about sharing a nice slow dance with your mother. Your arms around me, soft music, some candle light . . . I think that would relax us. Sound nice?" Of course he agrees—he has denied her nothing all night long so why start now.

"You don't mind if I put something else on do you hon? I'm afraid this nightshirt of mine is perfect for sleeping, but not so much for sharing a slow dance in." He murmurs his ascent while heading to the bathroom.

Once inside the closet she strips off the robe while debating the earlier merits of her promise not to make any overt sexual advances toward him. She finds them to be . . . lacking.

She searches her closet for something a bit more enticing to wear for their pending dance rejecting several items for being either too conservative, or too daring, before finally settling on a pretty pink nightshirt.

Considering his reaction to her pink bra earlier, pink, she suspects, may be his favorite color for women. Besides she will finally have a chance to wear this particular nightshirt. It was a gift from Liz on her birthday several years ago, before she knew such pretty gifts for her was useless thanks to Bill's lack of interest in her.

So here it sat, unworn and unloved for all these long years. Until tonight. Maybe Zeke will like it. She supposes it would be fitting to wear it tonight for the first time since she is meeting her son for the first time.

She was about to put the nightshirt on when she takes a second look at it suddenly remembering how sheer the fabric is. In fact, as she recalls, it's practically see through. She also remembers how when she tried it on the one time how very snug it was on her. Thinking about it now, she recalls how she had saved the receipt and was planning on exchanging it for the next size up, but never got around to doing so.

Deciding it will be too daring to wear alone, Lian searches for a bra and panties to put on underneath, or maybe a tee shirt, but then stops. Smiling to herself, she whispers, "Why not? It will surely make an impression on him."

Tossing the bra she was considering to the side, she settles with putting on only a pair of pink thong panties underneath. Posing in front of the mirror attached to the back of her closet door, Lian smiles slyly observing how her regal tits strain the sheer fabric of the medium sized nightshirt that was not made for a woman with a set of 38DD tits.

He is sitting on the bed waiting for her when she comes strutting out of the closet. He takes a quick look at her, and then diverts his eyes. Knowing she is his mother, he no longer feels quite right about openly staring at her.

Lain moves about the room lighting roughly a dozen candles in preparation for their dance. The whole time Zeke struggles to keep his eyes off of her. The tight sheer nightshirt she is wearing barely reaches her waist allowing both her ass and legs to be fully exposed.

The guilt he feels for wanting to stare at her is compounded by what he wants to do to her . . . yet again. Zeke fully understands such feelings will only grow stronger if he allows himself to dance with her.

Finally, afraid he will not be able to control himself if they were to dance he makes a hasty decision. Jumping up from the bed, he quickly strides across the room.

"I should go, Mom. I mean to the spare room. I suddenly feel . . . not so good."

He pauses, his hand on the door, wondering what her reaction shall be. Trying to hide the disappointment in her voice, Lian turns to him saying softly, "Fine, just give me a minute and I will show you there."

Lian is deeply hurt by his sudden change of mood. Alone in her bedroom, she does two more huge lines from her stash of coke. It only makes things worse as the coke serves to fuel her already intense emotions. Feeling hot and in the need of some fresh air she opens the French doors and stumbles out onto the balcony that overlooks the immense backyard.

There is a light snow falling as she sips on a fresh glass of champagne hoping the cold night air will help restore her emotional balance. Leaning back against the railing she wonders if Zeke is sleeping soundly now in her spare room. She desperately wants to check on him, but fights the feeling- praying he will come back to her.

Zeke still cannot sleep. The sight of his mother in her sheer pink nightshirt haunts him when he closes his eyes. The guilt he feels over his desire for her is starting to fade. It is now being replaced by a deeper guilt for abandoning her. He was sure this hurt her as she barely said a word to him when she escorted him down the hallway to the spare room, and then worse still, turned away when he tried to give her a simple little goodnight kiss.

The gnawing feeling that he must return to her finally wins out after just a few minutes. He slips back on his jeans and shirt and quietly makes his way down the dark hallway to her room.

He knocks on her door. No answer. Entering the bedroom, he finds it quiet and almost completely dark. The only light comes from the candles. Thinking she may be in the bathroom he calls out to her softly. Nothing.

Peering at the bed, he sees she is not there either. The closet maybe? The door is shut and the light is off. He starts to wonder just where the hell she is at- downstairs maybe- when he feels a cold draft.

Looking about the room to find the source, he spots one of the French doors leading to the balcony cracked open. He slowly crosses the room, and just before reaching the open door he hears her quietly sobbing.

His heart breaks as he pauses at the threshold of the door. She is there, leaning against the railing straight across from the doors, her back to him. Her dark silhouette is gently heaving from the tears racking her body.

He steps out into the cold night air to find himself confronted by a most alluring scene. She turns around and stares at him saying nothing. She is holding a half filled champagne flute and sniffling.

The soft curves of her body, accented by the glorious full moon hovering over the balcony, stand out under the pink nightshirt. Her long, luxurious hair seems to shimmer in the luminous moonlight. Her face glows with a beauty that makes his heart ache with forbidden longing. But it's the sight of those magnificent nipples, resplendently erect, pushing against the gossamer material of her nightshirt that makes him sigh with a deep yearning.

They stand facing each other for a long moment- saying nothing- just staring. He tears his eyes off of her chest and looks at her. There are a few flecks of fluffy white snow lingering in her dark hair marking a wonderful contrast. Lost in her absolute beauty, he forgets all about feeling guilty.

A cold breeze cuts across the balcony making them both shiver. Zeke's eyes fall to her chest- yet again. Her fully erect nipples, looking so unimaginably splendid poking out against the nightshirt, capture his eyes. Simply put -they are now the center of his universe.

Lian knows exactly where his attention is focused. She says nothing letting the tension build as she takes a couple small steps forward allowing him a better view of her tits.

Finally she breaks the silence. "So you don't find the spare bedroom to your liking?"

"Mom, I'm sorry. I . . . didn't mean to hurt you. You've been crying?"

She takes another step forward hoping to capitalize on the guilt he is obviously feeling. One more step forward and she is now standing within arm's reach of him on the cold balcony.

A stiff breeze ruffles his dark hair. He is so handsome in her eyes that it makes her heart ache. "

"You should go back to the spare bedroom or better yet leave the house completely. Forget about me and this whole stupid night. Yes . . . just leave me here all alone . . . freezing . . . on my balcony. I clearly deserve my fate of a cold loneliness . . . I can see that now. It is payback for my stupidity in losing you so long ago." She starts to turn away after draining the balance of her champagne down in one large gulp.

The moment of truth is upon him. Zeke senses unless he does something drastic this beautiful dream of a night could turn really ugly. Not surprisingly, he suspects she is really not in a mood to listen to reason or logic. Not now; they are way past that. Instead, he will have to rely on raw, passionate emotion to save the day. That and swift, decisive action.

He acts quickly, letting the raw emotion that is required wash over him and rule his actions. He takes a takes a step forward flexing his muscles, preparing for the bold action that is necessary.

"I shan't leave you to such a bitter cold fate, mother."

He wraps one arm around her back, and the other under her legs, and before she even knows what is happening scoops her easily off her feet. She lets out a surprised squeal of sheer delight as he turns and carries her into the bedroom.

"No, no, honey put me down," she cries trying to sound mad, but not quite getting there.

"Not a chance," he snaps back while turning to push the open door shut with his foot as she snuggles against him.

"Where are you taking me?" she whispers as he starts to cross the room.

He heads toward the bed. "To your bed. You are freezing, mother. I can feel you shivering against me. I shall tuck you in nice and warm under the covers OK."

"I have a better idea hon. Dance with me . . . as you promised earlier. Your strong arms around me is all the warmth your mother requires." He deftly sets her on her feet agreeing to the idea.

"I just gotta step into the closet a moment to put on my dancing shoes. Wait for me, hon."

He plops down on the bed trying to relax knowing his fate is sealed.

A minute later his mother emerges from the closet. He glances up at her and smiles. "You look much taller." She is wearing a pair of wonderfully wicked pink neon open toed sandals and towering five inch heels that are a perfect complement to her pink nightshirt and panties.

As she struts across the room oozing sex she whispers, "Like my new shoes. I have been saving them for a special occasion."

"You consider dancing with me a special occasion?"

"I consider finding my handsome adorable long lost son after all these years the most special of occasion's sweetheart. Don't you?"

"Yes, of course, mother." He was about to say more, but instead shuts his mouth as he becomes wholly distracted.

His distraction is in the form of his mother's super nice butt as she struts over to the entertainment center nestled in the corner of the bedroom.

Despite being drunk, despite the five inch heels, despite the prodigious amounts of coke she has snorted, she still moves with the soft grace of a cat. The only thing missing is for her to have a long furry tail to swish around.

Her sweet ass is on full display when she bends over to insert a disc into the CD player. Staring, he wonders if she is bending over simply for his viewing pleasure. It seems to him it would have been much simpler for her to just crouch down and insert the disc into the player.

Her pretty pink panties do little to conceal her well-toned ass as she seems to be taking an inordinate amount of time fiddling with the controls of the stereo allowing him a nice long look. Finally, she straightens up after putting in a mix CD of romantic songs.

The bedroom is filled with the soft sounds of a romantic love ballad. They come together in the middle of the bedroom. With her high heels on she towers over him which is fine by him since it puts him nearly on eye level with those stunning tits of hers. They are silent, holding each other tight as the room fills with dreamy lyrics of love and romance.

The raw sexual tension between mother and son is reaching a fever pitch as the song grinds slowly on. Zeke, no matter how he tries, simply cannot keep his eyes off her tits. He is getting hard again all the while hoping she isn't noticing.

"Honey, are you grossed out by what happened earlier now that you know our little "Mommy" fantasy was reality."

"No, not at all."

She pauses, her arms sliding up his neck. "So you still find me attractive?" she whispers. So much for not seducing him.

"Utterly."

"You still want me."

"Desperately," he breathes as his hands slip around her waist.

Smiling at him slyly, she takes his hand and leads him back across the bedroom to her vanity table. The raw sexual tension that now envelops the bedroom is like some sort of living entity all of its own.

"Help me up on the table baby," she mouths to him. He takes her by the hands and helps scoot her up on the table. There is a slight jingling noise as her various assortment of makeup items rattle about when her weight settles on the table.

She doesn't let his hands escape now that she is safely settled on the table, but instead she clenches them near her chest where they hover, trapped by hers, mere inches from her pink clad mountains that he has been staring at so wistfully while they danced.

"Do you like your Mommy's tits honey?" She seductively tilts her head to one side whispering, "I mean you do think my tits are big right honey? The way you have been staring at them all night makes me think so."

The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. "Oh Jesus, Mom, you know your tits are fucking huge."

"Not just huge, but fucking huge huh," she giggles before adding, "And that is a good thing?"

"You know it is" he answers unable to believe that this wonderful impossible night is about to get better.

"Are they bigger and better than that stupid Mrs. Ashby's baby?"

"Yes on both counts."

"Go on baby show me you think you Mommy has real nice tits."

She releases his hands, before laying her head back, closing her eyes, and pushing her chest out to him striking a pose of complete submission.

He pauses for the briefest of instances, knowing what he is about to do is wrong, but simply unable to resist such a temptation. He stretches his fingers out tracing small circles through the thin material of her nightshirt.

His fingers circle, much like a pack of sharks circling their prey, before his hands attack. He smashes through the natural barriers that mothers erect against their sons to keep such things from happening, and begins to lavish rich attentions on her lovely tits with his curious hands.

They feel divine in their firm fullness under the soft material of her nightshirt. Yes her nightshirt, it's still there, providing one last barrier to her heavenly tits. He wonders if he should try and remove it.

Lian, with uncanny motherly instincts opens her eyes, lifts her head up and stares at her son. She senses he is wondering just exactly what to do next.

"You know this . . ." She reaches down and takes his hands off her tits. "Sheer, pink, night shirt of mine . . . I wore it just to tease you little boy. I didn't wear a bra underneath on purpose understanding the effect it would have on you."

She glances pointedly at the bulge in his jeans. "I see it is working. But yet you are still too shy . . . still too scared . . . still too much of a little boy to do anything about your mother teasing you."

He knows what she is doing- questioning his manhood in such a way that is anything but subtle. What should he do about it?

He brushes her hands away; reaches out and rips the nightshirt violently open. Several of the large pink buttons go zinging through the air as Lian lets out a gasp of shocked delight.

He moves his hands under her tits and lifts them up as he pulls back briefly to catch his breath. He surveys the scene. Her head has fallen back once again; her breath is ragged; her long hair spread out on the table, but most especially he loves the way her chest is trembling with those gloriously erect nipples waiting to be sacrificed to the hungry ravages of his eager mouth. He stares wanting to burn this memory into his soul where it will last a lifetime.

His mouth falls on her tits with such a savage ferocity that she will be the one with the memory of his fierce assault upon her tits forever seared onto her soul. He buries his face in her immense cleavage. Kissing and licking his way up the vast expanse of tit flesh, his mouth moving back and forth with frenetic speed, he attempts to kiss her tits everywhere all at once.

His mouth flies to one large breast and then the other, sucking on the ripe nipples with reckless abandon causing the table to shake.

"OH GOD BABY . . . that's it suck on my tits. Please baby don't stop."

It would be a far easier thing for him to stop breathing than to stop sucking on her tits at this point. He lips, his mouth, his tongue, all lay waste to her poor nipples as his hands plunder her tits mercilessly.

Finally, Lian lifts her head up and reaches down with one hand telling him to stop. She has to tell him three times before he obeys.

His eyes are glazed and his hair a mess as he looks up at her. "It's your mother's turn to play with something sweetheart. Something big and hard I suspect."

Her hands go to the front of his Levi's. She goes nice and slow, wanting to build the tension. First, she undoes his belt. He reaches out with his hands and tries to fondle her tits as she slides down off the table. She swats them away, before going back to work, unbuttoning his jeans.

She gradually pulls the zipper down, before reaching back up to hook her fingers around his pants. She tugs them down ever so carefully, making sure to pull down his boxers in the process.

For the second time during this wicked night she gasps at his size. His full 8 inches is on proud display jutting out from his body.

She can scarcely take her eyes off it as she tells him sweetly, "I can see you have still have no problem getting big and hard for your mommy sweetheart. Go on baby. Give you mother what she wants."

She turns around, pulling his hands around her mid-section. They quickly rises to cup her tits as she pushes her ass against his crotch. Their mouths twist together sharing an urgent kiss with a pair of desperate snaking tongues.

"Take your sexual frustration out over that bitch Mrs. Ashby out on me baby. Fuck me . . . show me what that bitch was missing."

He drops his hands to yank her pink panties down and off her hips.

He is out of control with youthful lust to the point where he no longer cares what he says to her. "Spread your god damn legs you fucking chink whore and I will give you what you want."

Lian, more amused than upset at his derogatory comments, does as he demands spreading her legs with equal parts excitement and fear. She wanted to push his buttons -that much was true- but she never dreamed he would say the words that just came out of his mouth. She wonders just how hard he is going to fuck her.

She doesn't have to wonder long. With his third hard thrust forward he finally buries his eight inches deep inside her wet cunt. Lian lets out a small whimper as he pierces her.