Fantasies Fulfilled Ch. 14

I recommend you read up to Chapter 5 of Fantasies Fulfilled or what follows will probably be even more meaningless than it already is.

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Irene awoke with a start. There was something... what was it? Something important, something ... "Ooohhh fuckkk!"

The heavy arm draped across her, pressed home the facts. Carefully she took a hold of it by the wrist and lifted it away from her, gently laying it down at her naked son's side. Quietly and carefully she eased her legs out of the bed and stood. Hardly daring to breath she looked down her own torso, she was of course naked. Dejectedly she eyed her small, slightly sagging breasts, fine silvery stretch marks pointed the way to the hard dark nipples that even now betrayed her inner most feelings. Her soft abdomen and small tummy also covered with stretch marks, caused all those eighteen years ago by the same son who had just a few hours ago...

"What have I done?" she murmured to herself.

Hardly daring to look she raised her heavy eyes to the full length mirror in front of her. Her brunette dyed greying hair a tangle from when Robbie had kissed her so passionately before...

Her thick dark pubic hair was uncomfortably matted from their combined fluids. She used her arms to try to cover herself from her own gaze. In the mirror she could see her son's 'morning glory' tenting the thin sheet that covered his lower half.

"What have I done?" she murmured once more. She could not believe how stupid she had been. How could she have let this happen? What was she thinking?

Quietly she crept out of the room taking a wrap around gown and slippers with her.

In the bathroom she showered away the evidence, cleaned and groomed herself without once daring to look in the mirror. Once again wearing the gown she made her way passed her room, Robbie was still asleep, she went down stairs and prepared a pot of tea, she sat at the table cup in hand, "What have I done?"

Robbie opened his eyes. Something was different. What was that smell? Perfume?

"Oh Fuck!"

"Fuck!"

He jerked upright and looked around the room. His mother's room. He was alone.

"I fucked my mother!" he mouthed, "I fucked my mother."

"I kissed her... fucking hell!" His cock spasmed painfully. He became aware of a noise in the bathroom, "She's in the shower." He thought to himself. "Oh shit! What do I do? How will she be? Is she expecting me to do her again? I want to do her again."

The bathroom door opened. He panicked, he could not face her like this, it was too scary, too embarrassing, he dropped to the mattress and closed his eyes, barely able to breath. His mother walked passed the open door and carried on down stairs. Slowly he sucked in a breath. What did that mean? What should he do? What dare he do? Robbie lay there too nervous and scared to move. Downstairs the sound of clinking china subsided, perhaps she would bring him breakfast in bed?

It was a full two hours before Robbie mustered the courage to dress and go downstairs to face his mother.

In those hours, he had gone over the events of yesterday in his mind about a thousand times. Mrs Robinson, he had actually had his cock sucked by a beautiful older woman that he had only met about half an hour before. He had licked her naked cunt and sucked her big tits he had almost got his cock into her but had cum too soon. All with his naked mother there on the bed. "Fucking hell! Mrs Anne Robinson!" He fondled his aching cock. Then he had fucked his mother. Fucked her on this very bed, and she had fucked him back. He could smell her on the sheets, on the pillow, he inhaled the cloth deeply and jerked his cock to orgasm. The wet patch he was lying in got bigger.

Downstairs was empty, his mother had gone out. The ironing board was out, Irene had obviously dressed from the clean washing basket. She was avoiding him. However he could not get the image of the naked women spread on the bed waiting for him to ....

Upstairs he rummaged through the dirty linen basket and found two pairs of his mothers panties, one black, one red, and a black bra. Naked and on his own bed he rubbed the bra against his own chest and sniffed the heavily marked gusset of the red panties, the intense scent of the long worn underwear sent his hand into a frenzy once more. He spurted a heavy load into his mothers other pair.

A couple of hours later and still he had not heard from her, he dare not phone her mobile. He could only imagine that he was in deep, deep trouble. But still the images played in his brain. The picture that was most prominent was that of Anne's tits swaying in his face. He tried to picture his mother's body, he was aware that she was very hairy between her legs and that her tits were smaller and harder than Anne's, but frankly in the dim afternoon light with the blinds or curtains drawn he had hardly seen her. He had fucked his mother twice but he could only truly visualise Anne's much more rounded frame.

Once again he found himself in his mothers room sporting a strong erection and grasping her 'scented' red knickers. He was poking around in her night stand. Up until yesterday he had never really thought of his mother as a woman, she was his mother and that was that. The new found sexual animal within her was a total revelation to him and he wanted to find out more. An old packet of tampons met his eye, then a tube of KY jelly, then a couple of old batteries. The vibrator at the back of the drawer buzzed readily into life, it was the first one he had ever actually held and its existence in his mothers bedside drawers excited him more than anything he could remember.

"My mother's a wanker!"

He held it to his nose and sniffed, it was clean. How many times had she used this on her... up her...?

Robbie rubbed the buzzing toy against the tip of his large rigid cock. It was pleasant but not massively exciting, perhaps he was doing it wrong. He thought about his own mother thrusting this thing in and out of herself whimpering as she secretly reached orgasm. Once more he tugged himself to a spurting conclusion.

Outside Irene turned her car into the driveway and looked at the house she was not looking forward to this.

Robbie heard her car door and ran to his own room, he lay on the bed and once again pretended to be sleeping.

Irene closed the front door behind her, the house looked exactly as it had before she had left. She had to leave, she could not possibly face her son after what she had done to him. But now she had resolved to beg his forgiveness and to try and put it behind them.

"Robbie! Robbie are you home?" She called up the stairs.

It was not her angry voice.

"Up here." He called.

She was relieved, to hear his voice, she had half expected him to have left. She climbed the stairs and lightly tapped on his door before opening it.

Robbie sat up on the bed, a look of uncertainty on his face.

Irene began crying. "Oh God, what have I done to you? Robbie," she crossed the room and sat on the bed clawing at his shoulders. "Robbie? Please forgive me." The tears poured down her face dripping not from her cheek bones but following the deep wrinkles and frown lines ultimately appearing somewhere near ear lobes.

Where had this come from? What was it she was supposed to have done?

He put his arms around her tiny frame. "What's wrong mum?"

"What's wrong? Don't you realise what we did, what I did?"

"It was great."

"It wasn't great it was wrong, very, very wrong."

"I'm sorry I thought it was good, I've never done it before. I just need practice."

"I mean it was a sin, a massive sin. It's against the law. We could go to jail. It was all my fault. I'm sorry."

"I thought you were angry at me." He explained.

"Angry? No I'm not angry, I just woke up this morning with a huge dose of reality. I slept with my son."

Robbie thrilled at the words. "It was fantastic."

Irene was shocked at the levity in his voice. "Don't you feel an ounce of guilt?"

"Why? I loved every second of it."

"I'm your mother."

"I know, isn't it great?"

"No regrets at all?"

Robbie licked some tears from her wrinkled face. "I regret not doing it sooner."

"I thought you would hate me. How could I do that to my own son?"

"I did sort of push you into it."

"I should have refused."

"I must admit I was kind of surprised how quickly you gave in. I figured I'd have to work on you for days."

Irene began to sob. "I'm such a slut."

"I guess Anne had us both worked up."

"Anne? Anne who?" Irene had forgotten the false name Elaine had made up.

"Anne. Anne Robinson. You remember you stripped her naked and tried to shove my penis into her."

"Of course I know."

"So how long have you been sleeping with her?"

"I'm not."

"You always behave that way with strangers?"

Robbie pulled her skinny frame to him and hugged. "It's alright mum, I'm fine. It's all fine. I was a little shocked to discover that my own mother had those urges, I never thought about it before."

Irene rested her tearful face against his shoulder. "You shouldn't have to, that's the point. You should be bringing young girls home and going out to the cinema and just having fun."

"Would you like me to bring young girls home?" There was a leer in his voice.

"Yes, it's what..." she realised he was being lewd. "Not like that, I mean you should just have a normal teenager's life."

Robbie was getting a hard on. He could not help it his mother was pressed against him on his bed, talking about sex.

He gently kissed her head and hair covered neck pulling her even closer. Irene felt a little comforted. Robbie slowly brought his hand up and around her side until he was almost covering her breast. Irene suddenly realised his intention and pulled away.

"Robbie! No." She stood up. "This has to stop. It's my fault it started but now I'm stopping it."

"I'm sorry mum, I can't help it. I just want you." He grasped the very large lump in his jeans.

Irene's eyes were drawn to her son's groin. She swallowed. "No. It's wrong, it can't happen again."

"But mum, it was so good when we were naked in your bed and you were rubbing.."

"Stop it Robbie! Stop it now."

"I can't help it."

"If your father found out he would kill us both." She knew that to be true.

"I'm hardly going to tell him, am I?"

"Maybe not, but last night was madness. You are my son, mothers and sons don't do what we did."

"We can keep it a secret, no one will ever know."

"Someone already knows."

"Who? Oh Anne. Well she didn't see us actually ... you know."

"She saw me kissing you and ... well she saw enough."

"But, you and her have been doing it. Haven't you? You were kissing and stuff."

"Believe it or not we hadn't even met until the day before, and she was the first woman I have ever even kissed."

"Wow mum. You're a fast mover. What about Gavin and his wife, how did you pull their neighbour with them around?"

Irene had enough of the pretence. "Anne isn't Anne. She's Elaine."

"Who's Elaine?" What do you mean she isn't Anne?"

"Elaine...as in Gavin and Elaine."

The truth dawned on her son. "You fucked Gavin's wife?"

Irene thought back to Elaine thrusting the dildo deep into her. "It's probably nearer the mark to say she did me, but yes I slept with Gavin's wife." She bit her lip.

"What if Gavin finds out?"

"He won't." She was going to say "mind" but cut the sentence short.

"Will she tell Gavin about us?"

"I don't think so, after all she did go to bed with you."

Robbie remembered Anne, Elaine sucking on his cock, and the way he had sucked her heavy tits and the taste of her cunt. "With both of us. God that was so hot. I wish I hadn't been so needing it, I would love to show her how I can do it now."

"I don't think that's going to happen. You must never tell anyone about any of this."

"OK. But just thinking about it makes me so." He rubbed the front of his jeans. "Couldn't we just do it once more? No one will know."

Despite her disgust at her behaviour, Irene was feeling a little tingle, reliving the previous few days was weakening her new found resolve. Her son continued to rub his enormous bulge. "It must be very uncomfortable locked in those tight jeans." She thought.

Robbie raised his hand to her rapidly panting breast. His gentle touch was unbearably good as her nipples turned to stone. She closed her eyes.

"Just one more time mum?"

Mum? Irene crashed to earth. "Robbie! No!." She pushed his hand away. "We can't do this." She turned and left the room..

"Nearly." Thought Robbie.

Irene needed to get away, she knew her son would persist and she was not totally confident that she would be able to resist. The last few days had been extraordinary for her. Years of pent up frustration from the lack of attention from her abusive pig of a husband combined with working in close proximity to Gavin who she lusted after and never getting a release apart from her battery powered lover. Now all that had changed she had been the object of desire for three people, she had been fucked and kissed and licked and the orgasms had been mind blowing. Irene had a lot of lost time to make up, she was not about to fall back into her old life, but neither could she contemplate sleeping with her son again.

She had to distance herself from Robbie.

That night as she lay in bed, it came to her. The following day she booked a two week holiday in Ibiza for her son.

"If he can't find a willing girl there then he never will." She thought.

Within hours she had taken her son to the airport and watched as his plane took to the sky.

As she drove back from the airport she felt a weight falling from her shoulders. Irene decided to drive straight to work. She had not seen or spoken to Gavin since their lustful romp. She had spent years fantasising about how it would be with him and now she had experienced the real thing. Did she want more? That was the question.

"Hi, Gavin."

"Afternoon Irene." He said, barely glancing at her.

"Are you OK?"

"Fine."

"How about Elaine?"

"She's fine."

"Good."

"I have to go out. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye".

"Bye then."

"What was that?" She thought, "Brush off? Embarrassment?"

She drove home that evening to find her husband had returned. "Oh .. God.." She groaned.

"There's no food in the house." He complained.

"If I'd known you were coming I'd have done a shop."

"Your cooking stinks anyway, I'll get something at the pub."

Irene knew what that meant. He would return at midnight stinking of stale beer, and then expect her to spread her legs for him, more often than not he would pass out on top of her.

"Oh God." She groaned again to herself.

"Can I come too? It's ages since I went to the pub." If she could prevent him drinking his usual eight pints she might stand a chance of not getting bruised thighs tonight.

"If you must."

The pub was ten minutes walk away. They walked in silence.

"Shall we cut through the park?" Irene often walked in the park.

"If you like."

"You haven't asked about Robbie." She said as they passed through the park gates.

"What about him?"

"He's gone to Ibiza, for a couple of weeks."

"As long as I'm not paying."

They headed towards the small lake in the middle of the park.

"No. It's my treat."

"If you're daft enough. He should get a job."

"Can we sit and watch the ducks?"

"I'm not sure I could stand the excitement." He said as he lowered himself to a bench.

Irene sat close to her husband. "We used to come here a lot."

"Did we?"

"You know we did. That's where you kissed me for the first time." She pointed towards another bench further down the path.

"No. That's where you kissed me." He corrected.

"You were a good kisser back then."

"You mean I'm not anymore."

"It's been so long, I wouldn't know." Irene looked at his face. He stared straight ahead.

"I suppose."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"It would have been romantic to kiss me."

"What do we need with romance? I'll be shagging you soon enough when we get home from the pub."

"Have you ever considered that I might want a little more than you just climbing on top of me?"

"What do you mean?"

Irene stared at him, he looked genuinely confused. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"What it's like for me."

"Why? What's what like?"

"My life!"

"What's wrong with your life?"

"Oh Bob! For Gods sake. You're away working most of the time, getting up to goodness knows what. You turn up at home every three weeks to have me wash and iron your things while you get drunk and round the evenings off by practically raping me."

"Don't be bloody stupid, you're my wife I can't rape my own wife. It's your job to ... you know."

"You abuse me."

"Now you're talking rubbish."

"Last time you were home, you shoved me against the kitchen table and had me from behind, you pulled my hair, tore my underwear and left bruises on my legs."

"I'm sorry. I get desperate while I'm away."

"It's got to stop."

"What no more ...?"

"Not like that."

Irene felt liberated, she had finally gotten it off of her chest, she was not going to let him push her around any more.

"From now on I want you to treat me with some respect and consideration." She continued.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll leave you."

"You're a bit old to be starting again." He laughed. "I doubt you'd find another man."

"I'm younger than you." She replied. "Have you looked at yourself recently? You're not exactly a prize catch."

It was true, he had let himself go a bit. He did not attract the attention from the women in the pubs like he used to.

"Irene. What is it that you want?"

"Affection, tenderness, kindness, thoughtfulness, courtesy, love?" She stared deep into his eyes. "I want you to make me feel like a woman."

Bob stared at his wife. He really did not know what the hell she was banging on about, but knew she was serious. "What do you want me to do?"

Irene stood up. "Hold my hand." She held hers out, tentatively he took it and stood up.

"This doesn't hurt does it?"

"No, but we're a bit passed all this aren't we?" He was looking up and down the path to see if anyone was watching them.

"Bob. We are man and wife, we are holding hands in a park, it's not much to ask."

"Suppose not."

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me."

"Here?" He said looking around.

Irene pointed to her lipstick coated lips. "No. Here."

"It's a bit juvenile isn't it?"

"Husbands can kiss their wives. Wives like to be kissed."

"Can't it wait till after the pub?"

"We're not going to the pub."

"Yes we are we were on our way..." Irene put her hand over his mouth.

"After you kiss me, here in the park for all the world to see, we are going back home. We will hold hands on the way. You will tell me how much you love, need and respect me. Then when we get home we will go to our bedroom and you will make love to me, I get to go on top. I get to have an orgasm."

Bob swallowed. "But I haven't eaten..." her hand stopped the protest.

"You are going to eat very soon." She said with a glint in her eye. She raised on tip toe and covered his mouth with her own. Bob did nothing to stop her. After a few seconds Irene released his lips.

"You can do better than that. Kiss me." She insisted.

"Better to get it over with." He thought and leaned down to kiss his wife. Irene eagerly returned the kiss. He inhaled her perfume for the first time in years, and noticed her slender frame so fragile and feminine. "This isn't so bad." He thought.

Irene made to pull away, but Bob held her firmly to him he was enjoying this. Irene once more relaxed into the kiss. A minute went by and Bobs tongue snaked between her lips and played across her teeth.