Fantasies Fulfilled Ch. 17

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Irene's son gives her a present to remember.
12.6k words
4.51
64.1k
20

Part 17 of the 21 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 09/21/2006
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Genderal
Genderal
143 Followers

Again this just carries straight on from the last chapter.

*

Elaine drove home; the butterflies were back, she was certain her husband would know what she had just been doing. Nevertheless she could not prevent a broad grin, she felt so utterly satisfied, so much more so than from the strange encounters she had had recently. It had been an afternoon of perfect sex; she had felt in total control, not worrying about anything but the sheer act of fucking someone innocent and fresh. Someone who she knew would have no criticism of her, after all he had very little to compare her against, apart from his own mother!

She arrived home and rushed inside, she was a little later than she had hoped and her family would soon be returning. She rushed upstairs to change, stuffing her dirty clothes into a drawer, she could sort those out later. She slipped on the first things that came to hand, a pair of old jeans and a tatty sweatshirt, she did not bother with underwear, she was in a hurry. As she made her way back down the stairs, the front door opened and in rushed her two little girls followed by Gavin. He smiled and just looked her up and down.

"What?" she asked

"You look a sight!" he said, and kissed her cheek.

Elaine put her hands around his neck and kissed him on the mouth.

"I love you." she said, she truly did.

"You always look fabulous to me." he replied and kissed her back. "What's for dinner?"

Across town, Robbie strutted down his street, he felt ten feet tall. Life just could not get better than this. He looked at the picture on his phone with the hotel message under it. Then he moved to the next picture, Elaine spread out naked asleep on the cum soaked hotel sheets, the next a close up of her tits and contented sleeping face, finally a close up of her delicious cunt, hairy, wet and beautiful. He wished he had taken more, he wished she had not woken at that point, or rather he wished he had the idea to take pictures sooner. The irony of her husband, Gavin; having taken similar secret photos of Robbie's own mother would never be known to him.

Robbie patted his damp pocket for a third time, reassuring himself that Elaine's cunt soaked knickers were still safely in his care. He was surprised to see his mother's car in the driveway of their house. He opened the front door, "Hello!" he called.

"Hi son!" he heard from upstairs. He climbed the stairs and went straight to his room, he wanted to hide his prize and change his clothes. Despite his hotel shower he could still smell sex on his skin and his clothes held a slight aroma of Prada, Elaine's perfume. The knickers were secreted in a shoe box in his wardrobe and he had just removed his clothes when his mother walked in.

"Ohh! Sorry." she exclaimed, and turned to leave, then it dawned on her, "I don't suppose it matters now." she said and turned back to look at him. Robbie still covered his bulging manhood with his hands. "I didn't know you were going out?" she said.

"Last minute things for your birthday tomorrow." He lied.

"Oh please don't go to too much trouble."

"You're worth it." he grinned. "You're home early." he said, changing the subject.

"Yes. I had an appointment with a customer that took most of the afternoon; it wasn't worth going back to work. I thought I'd come home and surprise you."

"Ah, that explains it." It was a strange thing to say, but he was thinking of the phone call he had made to her office earlier that morning.

Irene glanced at his groin, she had been unable to concentrate all day because of their new arrangement and she had been feeling horny most of the afternoon. "I did wonder if you might want .... Need ... you know. You did say eight times a day!" She still could not believe that number.

"No, no I'm fine." he said. The afternoon spent fucking and being fucked by Elaine had more than satisfied his daily quota.

"Oh!" his mother looked a little crestfallen. She wanted to say "Well actually I could do with a bloody good wank myself." It came out as "I'll go put dinner on then." then as an after thought she added "perhaps later?"

"Ohhh yes, yes definitely." He wanted her to leave and let him be.

"OK then." She left.

He dropped onto his bed and let out a long breath. Life was certainly on the up. Irene had deliberately left him her dirty knickers on the top of the washing in the bathroom laundry basket, she was pretty sure they had not been touched, did that mean he was saving himself? Or that he was not interested? Jesus! Why was life so complicated. She busied herself making dinner, her mind playing out the scenarios for the evening. She was feeling good about their 'arrangement', she knew others would see it as down right strange, but frankly she did not care because they would never know.

She convinced herself that as long as they did not actually touch each other then what they were doing together was no different to what they had been doing in separate rooms. It was just a damn sight more honest and exciting. Besides, it was simply a bodily function; they were just helping each other carry out a necessary piece of maintenance work. She had been delighted and very encouraged by what the dictionary had to say about incest "Sexual relations between people classed as being too closely related to marry each other", followed by "The crime of having sexual intercourse with a parent, child, sibling, or grandchild." She had been bothered by the 'sexual relations' bit so she had looked that up too, 'plural noun, sexual intercourse'. It gave her peace of mind to know that what they were doing was far short of incest in the eyes of the Oxford English Dictionary. In fact it left the way open for far more than their recent fumblings.

She called Robbie to dinner, and they sat and ate in comparative silence. Her son seemed to be a mile away. In her head they would be a happy couple much like a husband and wife, chatting and laughing, sharing their woes. In reality they sat in silence, glumly eating their warmed up frozen pizza, with no prospect of real sex; they truly were like a married couple.

After dinner she started her usual routine, stacking the plates in the dishwasher.

"Shall we try another bottle of wine?" she asked cheerfully.

"If you like."

"Is there anything on the TV?"

"I don't know."

"Well I'm certainly looking forward to my massage." she said hopefully.

"I'm going to my room for a bit." he said and left the kitchen.

Irene stood holding two wine glasses, feeling very down. This was not how her mind had seen this evening. Surely the shine could not have gone from their new relationship so quickly?

He lay on his bed, once again flicking through the pictures on his mobile. His cock stirred in his jeans. He was feeling the 'down' after the 'up'. He knew that he would never get to fuck Elaine again. He thought of how much better it was to actually have sex than to imagine it, to actually have a woman squirming under his body, for her to touch him for her to need and want him. How it was so much better than what he and his mother had done. He laughed at his own feelings this morning after he had wanked in front of his naked mother, when he truly believed that things could not get better than that. How wrong he was. He was a new man now. He determined that he would seduce his mother, he would have sex with her and that she would beg for him to fuck her. Christ! How hard could it be? Given how far they had already gone.

There was a soft tapping on his door. "Son? Robbie? Can I come in?"

"Sure." He called. The door swung open, as he stuffed his phone into his pocket.

"Is everything ok son?"

Irene stood there with a glass of wine in either hand. "I thought you might like a drink." She offered a glass to him, he reached out and took it.

"Thanks mum." He said.

"You've been very quiet since you came home. Is there anything the matter?" she had genuine concern in her voice.

"No, everything is fine, really."

"I haven't done anything to upset you?"

"No, not at all."

"If you have any doubts about.... You know.... What we did, you only have to say."

"Honestly mum, everything is good."

"You would tell me though? Wouldn't you?"

"Yes, of course." He insisted.

"Well that's ok then. Here drink up." She clinked her glass on his and they both took a large swig.

"Why don't you come downstairs and watch some TV with me.? You don't have to massage me or anything."

Robbie laughed "OK, you win." He followed her to the living room sofa, where she sat at her end and he sat at his. They drank their wine.

Irene was worried, for a man that needed to masturbate eight times a day, he was not showing much sign of it. She felt that she was an equal partner in their arrangement and if she needed it, then he should acquiesce, but asking your son for a wank is just not that easy. She thought maybe a little innocent bodily contact might do the job. She shuffled along the sofa and cuddled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder a hand on his thigh. "Is this ok?" She asked.

"Yes." He put his arm around her slim frame and gave her a reassuring squeeze. She returned the squeeze using the hand on his thigh. "Easy peazy"; he smiled to himself.

They sat and watched a documentary about lions.

Despite their recent encounters, they watched in embarrassed silence as the male lion endlessly shagged its mate, both jealously wishing the bloody thing would hurry up and get it over with.

All the while Robbie was thinking if it was Elaine he was cuddling; she would have been swallowing his cock by now, rubbing her big tits in his face or begging for him to fuck her. Robbie looked at the hand on his thigh with disdain, that was about all the contact he could expect from his mother. He would have to act like the new man that he had become and take the lead.

"Mum?"

"What son?"

"Can I ask you something?"

She knew that sort of question was always followed by something heavy. "Of course you can."

"It's difficult to put into words."

"If it's about us ... our recent...you know..."

"That's my point."

"What is?"

"We're not open with each other. You can't talk about what we've been up to anymore than I can."

"Well it is pretty embarrassing."

"Is that how it is when you're married?"

"Ohh I suppose it is sometimes; especially when they've been married a long time. People get worried about hurting each others feelings, or making them think less of each other."

"But we're not married."

"No ... but we've been together for all of your life, I'm your mother it's very hard to change habits of a lifetime."

"But do you think we might try to be a little more ... open with each other."

"Oh I think we should always be open with each other." She was not really sure what that involved, but it sounded ok.

"I mean it would be great if we could talk, I mean really talk." He was thinking of his afternoon with Elaine again. She had been so frank with him, he was left in no doubt as to what she wanted and he felt he could have asked any question or said anything, and he had found her honesty so exciting and appealing.

Irene, being a woman, was all in favour of talk. She was more than willing to talk endlessly about feelings and relationships.

"Son, you can always talk to me, about anything."

"Mum, can I see your cunt?"

Every muscle in her small frame stiffened. The question came like a bullet to her temple, it scrambled her brain. "I....I...I" it said.

Did her son really just say that? A few seconds passed. Her brain was searching through its dusty old filing cabinets for the right way to respond to a son's request to see his mother's cunt. Had he really said that word? Here in the living room, at just 8:30 in the evening? Could he really be so... so... "

"I'm sorry if I shocked you. But don't you see, that's the problem between us, I am your son and we're so used to our roles that it make's what we have been doing a bit false and furtive. Exciting too, but not honest."

Her brain was very happy, what a clever boy, what a stupendously insightful boy.

"Ohh Robbie! You are so right. I haven't been open with you, pussy footing around when I could have been just saying what I feel."

"Well how about it?"

"You want to see my .... you know.?" she asked hesitantly.

"Well the word I used; and I seem to remember; you used it too last night; was cunt. But no... well yes I do; but what I meant was, how about us being a lot more open with each other about such things?"

Given the circumstances, Irene's brain could find no objections. "I would like to try that." she said. Her brain was back in gear, "I think it would be good to be open and honest."

His arm around her shoulder gave a reassuring squeeze. They sat silent for a while.

"So? What now?" She asked, not sure if she was supposed to actually do something.

"Can I make an observation?" he asked.

Irene filled with pride, "what a grown up turn of phrase" she thought, "what a mature young son I have."

"Well I suppose under our new agreement, you shouldn't even have to ask that."

Robbie grinned, "I guess, not."

"What did you want to say?" she brought him back on topic.

"You seem to have difficulty saying the words for 'what we've been doing' and I could feel you cringe when I said the C word.... Ha! There you've got me doing it now."

"True, but that's more my upbringing and again, you are my son. I've never used that sort of language around anyone apart from in the bedroom, or with my husbands, even then not very often."

The mention of 'husbands' reminded Robbie that he hardly anything of his mother's life before his father. "One of these days I'd like to know about your other husbands." he told her. "But I would like it if you would try to be a little more 'expressive', I'm easily confused."

"You mean talk dirty?"

"I mean call a spade a spade."

"I do find it quite a exciting to use naughty words." she confessed.

"Well I found it a huge turn on when you did it last night." He squeezed her arm again.

"I'm not going to turn into a gutter mouth!" she warned him.

"I don't want you to, well at least not around other people," he reassured her, "just when we're alone."

"I'll try." Silence reigned for a short while, each of them processing the new situation.

"So ... can I?" he finally asked

"Can you what?"

"Can I see your cunt?"

"Ohhh you are incorrigible." She slapped his thigh, which made him laugh. "Yes! You can see my ..... cunt." she forced the word through her lips, and laughed with him.

She pushed herself to her feet, turned and faced him. "Thank God the curtains are closed." she thought as she lifted the hem of her red work dress. Robbie watched avidly as his mother's legs and panties were slowly revealed. She wore cream coloured stay up stockings. Irene held the dress up with one hand and with her other she pulled the gusset of her matching red knickers to one side, her dark moist puffy labia popped into view. Robbie leaned forward, Irene took a small step back.

"I know... I know... no touching ... right?"

"Right." she smiled.

"I just want a closer look." and leaned forward some more, until he was just a few inches from his mothers mound, she could feel his unsteady breath on her moist folds, he could smell her musky aroma. Irene giggled, the experience was turning her on at an alarming rate, this was just so rude.

"You have a beautiful cunt mum." he uttered.

"That's not a sentence heard by many mothers." she thought, and giggled again.

"I wish I could lick it." He raised his eyes to hers as he said it.

"I wish you could too, " she said meekly, "but you know we can't do that." Her brain was rapidly shouting its memory of what the dictionary had taught her.

"We can't have sex, it's incest!"

"It's not proper sex, just a taste." A tiny droplet of clear cunt juice formed on her crinkly labia.

Bizarrely a vision of Bill Clinton insisting that he 'did not have sex with that woman' popped into her brain. Well if it was good enough for a President of America? It pleaded with her.

"No son." She regained a little composure.

Robbie cheekily grinned at her; "worth a try." he said and sat back.

"May I?" she asked indicating she wanted to cover herself up.

"If you must." he agreed.

"Well that was different!" she exclaimed with a grin. She did feel liberated, there seemed to be less tension in the air, she truly felt that at this moment she and her son were on the same page and that she could say anything without fear, it was a most relaxing experience. She thought she had better take the new feeling for a test drive.

"Your turn." she announced.

"What is?"

"Show me your .... Cock!" the word struggled and finally escaped from her prim mouth.

Robbie's grin widened. He yanked his zip down and with a struggle managed to free the beast. He sat before his mother, his legs open and his pride and joy protruding stiffly from his jeans. He held it at the base and lazily shook it a couple of times.

Irene stared at it with wide eyes. The whole experience was breathtaking. "This is so naughty!" she thought, "So FUCKING naughty." her brain added for good measure. She sank to her knees, and peered at his impressive member. The head half covered by his thick foreskin. She yearned to take a hold of it and yank it back. She could smell him; she ached to lick the head. "Peel back the skin." she commanded huskily. Robbie complied. She gazed in wonder at the thick purple veins surrounding its bulbous head; she imagined the friction and feeling of fullness as that dark pink monster punished her tight pussy. She had experienced it, but that seemed an age ago, another time, and another life.

"Do you like my cock, mother?" he added the 'mother' deliberately it gave both of them a thrill.

"You have a beautiful ... Cock." she assured him, from her trance like state.

"You can touch it if you like."

Her arm did actually move, but it broke the spell. "Nice try mister!"

She struggled to her feet. They both laughed.

She looked at him as he stuffed the monster back in its cage. "Well since we're being so honest, I'd like you to make us some coffee, and after that I want us to go upstairs because I need to,...." she almost chickened out "finger my cunt." Rude won the argument.

"Your wet cunt?" he teased.

"Yes my cunt is .. wet!" They both laughed, Robbie stood, kissed her wrinkly cheek and went to make coffee. Irene briefly rubbed the front of her dress, she had an itch that really needed scratching.

Robbie returned with two steaming mugs. They sat on the sofa, once more at either end. The brief separation to make the drinks had dulled the mood a little. They were once again feeling just a tiny bit awkward, there was always the chance that the other had had a change of heart. They kept looking at each other and looking away again.

"Remember I need to go to work tomorrow, I'll be back by around two." she finally said.

"I remember." he replied.

"Nice coffee." she offered. "Thanks."

"It's a new one from Tescos."

"It's good." he replied.

"It was on special offer."

"Oh?"

"Buy one get one free."

"Ah."

They looked at each other. The banality of the conversation made them both burst out laughing. A brave devilment slipped into her brain and she scooted across the sofa and kissed his cheek. "Are you going to shoot spunk from your big hard cock for me?" she whispered in his ear, she could hardly believe it was her own words.

He turned and looked her in the eyes, "I am, ... and I'll do it looking at your tits and cunt."

His reply sent a shiver through her. "Hurry up and finish your coffee." she said.

A few minutes later the coffee was finished. Irene stood and held out her hand to him. "Coming?"

Genderal
Genderal
143 Followers