Flight Attendant

I fumbled with the keys to open the door, my right hand on the luggage handle. I was still in my flight attendant uniform, high heels, medium cut skirt and a scarf around my neck with the airline colors. I was tired and ready to relax on the couch with drink.

I hadn't seen my 18 year old son in two days, and I wanted to make sure he was ok. But I also remembered so many other returns home when I had my husband waiting for me, but not any more. The loneliness had been hanging on me for a long time. I finally got the key in the door and walked into our apartment. "Honey? Are you home?"

"Hi Mom!" He seemed excited to see me, which was refreshing. He walked slowly toward me to give me a hug. This was a recent development, I think it came from all the TV shows with people hugging each other. He wrapped his arms around me, giving me a big kiss, catching a little lip, while his hands dropped reaching the top of my butt. The hugs had become more affectionate each time I came home, but I enjoyed the extra attention.

"Brian, could you make me a drink and bring over the ash tray? I am exhausted."

"Sure, sit down and relax." I looked at myself in the mirror. For forty-four I still looked great. I had the hourglass figure, my breasts were large and still firm. My hair still looked good after the long flight, held up in a bun. With that thought I went towards the couch remembering that young steward who had been chatting me up the night before in the hotel bar. "I should have slept with him." I thought. He was only 28, but very handsome. It felt good to have a young man attracted to me, even though he was only looking for a one night stand.

I sat on the couch and crossed my legs, showing a bit of thigh under a dark stocking. Brian handed me the drink and sat down next to me. Putting his head on my shoulder while I leaned back. The whiskey felt good and so did my son's affectionate. We talked about our days and he freshened up my drink. While he was up a lit a cigarette. When he sat down again he now laid his head lower, his chin touching my breast. It made me a little uncomfortable, but it also reminded me of the night I missed with the steward. I sat up and put out the cigarette, took a sip of my drink then leaned back again. He put his head back on my chest, farther down on my breast. The alcohol was taking effect, and I began to feel good, comfortable with my son's affection.

"How loving he was." I thought, and turned and kissed him on the forehead. His hand reached across me and rubbed my thigh, then moved up to my stomach. I felt tingly, his hand rose and stroked my ribs. I kissed him on the forehead, he suddenly lifted his head and kissed my on the lips, while his hand rose and cupped my breast. I kissed him with a closed mouth, he used his lips to open my mouth, racing his tongue into my teeth. I reluctantly opened my mouth and let his tongue touch mine. I put my hand on his as it touched my breast. I suddenly realized how wrong this was. I gulped, then broke away. "My, how affectionate you are tonight!" trying not to hurt his feelings. I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I've got to get to bed. I have to leave tomorrow afternoon. Do you need anything?"

He just looked at me, puppy faced. I raised an eyebrow and smiled.

I lay in bed contemplating what was going wrong. The lights were out. What was happening? Had I done something to provoke him. I was his mother. How could I let him go that far? I felt guilty. A knock on the door. I knew what he wanted. "Mom, can I come in a second?"

"Sure honey?" My voice shook. I knew. I was scared. He was only wearing briefs. He crawled on the bed and put his head back on my chest. I was unable to move, not knowing what to do or say. He began kissing my neck, but I couldn't move to stop him, down toward my breast, I could feel him pull down my silk top, his tongue wrapping around my nipple. I felt the pleasure, for a moment I almost lost myself in it. His hand rubbed my thigh. I came to.

"Brian, please, I'm your mother." I wanted to be firm but kind. "You should do this with your girlfriend, not me, please."

"But I don't have a girlfriend and you are so pretty." I breathed deeply.

"Thank you dear, but really, you need to go to your room. I understand you are excited, but this is not right. Don't worry about. We all can get over excited sometimes. Good night." He walked off silently.

I flew out the next day while he was still at school, not coming back till the following day. I continued to think about what was happening with Brian and how I missed his dad. His father was a good man, but couldn't control himself. He drank, ran around and finally ran off with a girl half my age. But for all the trouble, I missed him. He was a good man, but just no control. Maybe his son was like him. I had a drink at the bar, but the steward was no where to be found. What also worried me was that I did enjoy his affections more than I wanted to admit, and I was ready to sleep with the young steward to rid myself of any desires. But no luck. What would I say to Brian? I decided that I had to talk to him, let him know it was ok, that I was fine, and we would just chalk it up to excess hormones.

I nervously opened the door. But he was not waiting for me. "Honey, are you home?" No answer. I knocked on his door.

"Hi Mom." He said sullenly.

"Come on out and make me a drink, mister. I missed you."

"Okay." I was wearing pants this time, just in case.

"And how about a hug?" He perked up and moved quickly, his hands staying respectfully on my back.

We sat on the couch. I took a long a drag on my cigarette, and a healthy swig from my drink. "Brian, I want to talk to you about the other night. I want to let you know that it is ok. I know how it is to be young, and I am still attractive. Don't worry about it, it will be our little secret." I wanted to give him a peck on the cheek but somehow it come out on his lips.

"I'm sorry mom, but you looked so good, and you know. I just think you are really sexy, and since I don't have a girlfriend, well." I opened my arms and brought his head to my chest. I shouldn't have. His hand moved up to my ribs. "I'm sorry, you still love me. Don't you?"

"Of course I do baby." I felt his hand move up again. I gently put mine on it. He sighed. "But what do you want to do? I am your mother."

"Can't I just touch it a little?" I sat up. "Just a little." I shook my head unconvincingly.

"Just once, and that is it. Promise?" I said. I knew I shouldn't, but he looked so pained. I unbuttoned my shirt, looking into his eyes. I had on a nice lace bra. He looked on wide eyed, as if he were in shock.

"With the bra on. Ok?" He put his head down and kissed the skin, rubbing the bottom of the lace with his hand. His finger rubbing over my covered nipple, his hand on my thigh. I began to breath deeply. He wore sweat pants, and I could feel his bulge on my other thigh. He began to rub it on my leg. Without my knowing, he quickly pulled the bra down one breast and put his lips on my bare nipple. I felt the tingling, his hand now moved between my legs, I pushed them together but too late, he was there. I could feel the moisture. My god, what was I doing? He reached for my hand, and placed it on his bulge.

I rubbed it, knowing it was the only way to stop this. I sat up, pulled my bra up, and leaned him back. I brought my covered breast to his mouth, and moved my hand under his pants, rubbing him over his briefs. I didn't want to touch him directly if I didn't have to. I circled him with my fingers, he closed his eyes. His lips looked for mine, I gave in. I put my tongue into his mouth and began rubbing harder. His sighing became heavy, a little more. He needed one more thing got get him off. I unclipped my bra, and moved my breast to his mouth.

"Suck baby, suck." That did it. I could feel him buck, the moisture coming through the briefs. His breathing slowed.

"Now, honey, this will never happen again. We will never speak of this or will you ever touch me inappropriately. OK. This was a onetime deal. Now go to bed."

The next few days I slept poorly and avoided any situations where he could make another advance on me. I was distraught. What had I done? Sometimes I thought it was not a big deal, a common thing that happened but no one spoke of. Other times I thought I had committed an atrocity. I was also terrified that I did enjoy exciting him and getting him off. I felt terribly guilty about it. How could I enjoy doing that to my soon? I was happy to get out of the house, a three day international trip. I fretted and drank too much and arrived home exhausted.

This time I was wearing the skirt, with dark hose and the light gold shirt with the airline colors. I could tell from the expression on his face he was excited to see me. Too excited. He got me a drink as I sat on the couch with my feet up on the coffee table. "I'm exhausted, my legs are killing me." Hoping this would keep him off me.

"Let me rub them for you." I just sat back, unable to react. He put my high heels into his chest and rubbed my calves. I closed my eyes. He worked one leg then the other. I was getting excited. I was terrified. I drank while he worked the other leg. He took off my shoes then moved down to my thighs. "You have great legs." I do have great legs, I thought. He moved down the middle of my thighs. I let go. He worked the other leg. He finally reached in between my legs.

"What are you doing?" He continued and I let him, my eyes closed. He lifted my legs and put his bulge between me and moved his face to mine, kissing my neck and lips.

"No, please." I said weakly. He quickly reached down and removed my panties and hose with one movement then placed his hands on my now moist crotch. He knew, there was no escaping. He lowered his pants and briefs and moved his hard rod right into me. He stroked slowly, letting it lubricate my insides. I kept my eyes closed as he got his rhythm. I dug my heels into his back and began to enjoy it, losing myself in the passion. We were now kissing passionately, my shirt still buttoned up, scarf on. I moaned. He moved more quickly, lowering his head to mine, our tongues totally engaged. I now wanted him on my breasts. I unbuttoned my shirt and quickly unclipped my bra and brought his head to my right nipple.

"Suck on me." I began to take charge. I pushed him up, and moved to a lounge chair and sat down. I brought him too me and put his organ in my mouth. Building up the moisture as I moved back and forth on him, tinkling his balls. I couldn't believe what I was doing. I was sucking off my son. I turned and stood up, shaking my ass, calling him to enter me from behind. My skirt was up around my stomach, my breasts rocking, he drove into me, his hands cupping my breasts.

"Sit down on the couch." I got on top of him, lifting my breast to his mouth, while I rode him. He lifted up into me as I came down on him. I loved it, and knowing it was wrong only made it better. I put my hand on his balls and stroked him, riding him hard, I could feel him buck and cum inside me. I rolled over on the couch. The incestuous flight attendant.