Lighting The Blue Touch-Paper

"Yes."

The next morning Clare was waiting in the kitchen for Roger when he walked in. She was dressed, and looked more composed than the previous night. There was no sign of Simon.

She smiled a thin, nervous smile, and pushed a cup of tea towards him on the table. They sat down, facing each other, as they had the previous night.

"Did you sleep OK?" asked Roger to break the silence, and immediately regretted the unintended faux pas. If she noticed, she didn't show it.

"Not really," she said.

"Well look," he said, "Would you like to start at the beginning? And then we can try and work out what to do."

"OK," she said, and gathered her thoughts.

"You've remarked often enough at how close we are..."

He nodded.

"And it's true, we've always been close. Probably more than we should be..."

Her voice trailed off.

"I always thought it was because really he is your son, and of course, I'm away a lot..." Roger offered, trying to help.

"Yes, both those things are true," she said, "But it doesn't excuse what's happened..."

She swallowed, staring at her tea.

"I've always thought he was very handsome. I guess over the last couple of years I started to fancy him too. I think I've been worrying about my own appearance too. I don't know - some sort of mid-life crisis. You know, hitting forty, the grey hairs, the crow's feet..."

"But during the time we spent together it became pretty obvious that he fancied me too. I guess I was flattered at first. It did make me feel young again. It led me to have some pretty terrible thoughts, some awful fantasies..."

"Of course I felt terrible about it, and very conflicted. But I couldn't stop myself. And the closer we got, the more of a relationship we seemed to have together. And the more he seemed to be getting into me."

"Nothing happened between us, but then the night you saw him in the bathroom, well, I guess something clicked in me after that..."

Roger swallowed. He's been right to be concerned about that night.

"I'd thought it might be big... before then... but then I became obsessed with seeing his penis." She said, "Isn't it ridiculous? I'm a forty year old woman."

"I just couldn't get it out of my head. I found myself staring at his crotch all the time."

"I didn't do anything, but a few weeks later, we went out for what I guess was a romantic meal together. I didn't mean it that way. I swear to you, it wasn't what I was planning. But then one thing led to another, and, when we got home, well, we made love."

Roger looked at her, questioningly. She took a drink of her tea.

"It's not just sex is it?"

"No, I love him... I'm in love with him."

"What about him? He's a young man; don't you think this is going to seriously screw him up?"

"Don't you think I haven't thought about that?" she snapped angrily. "It's all I've thought about, and it's been killing me worrying about it. But he insists it's what he wants, that he's as in love with me as I am with him. I'm sure he's mature enough to understand his feelings."

Across the kitchen the clock ticked, filling the awkward silence.

"What happened that night?" he asked.

"What, you want the details?" she asked, confused.

"Yes I want to know everything," he said, deadpan, resigned.

"Why?

"I need to know..."

"OK..." she began, but she still couldn't see why he was being so persistent. "We came home; we were soaked from a rain storm. And, well, he put his arms around me, and we kissed, and we..."

"Yes?"

"We took each other's clothes off. We went to the bedroom, and we made love. It was very special."

"What did you think of him?"

"Think of him?"

"His abilities in bed..." Roger seemed tongue-tied, but determined to discover the grisly details, "His endowment..."

"Oh," she said, even more confused, "Well, it was incredible. He was amazing. I've never seen anything like it. I've never felt anything like it."

"How big is he?"

"He said he was nine inches long..." She thought she better not go into the tape-measure incident.

"Christ," he said, "I guess I can see the attraction."

She stared at him, her eyebrows raised.

"Are you getting some sort of kick out of this?" she asked, dumfounded at his reaction.

"Oh Clare, I don't know. I'm confused."

There was a long pause, before he went on.

"I saw you two together. I have to admit that it was one of the most exciting things I'd ever seen. But I hate myself for feeling like this."

"I hate myself too, sometimes, but even so I can't seem to help it."

"What are we going to do?" he asked, plaintively.

"What do you want to do?"

He cleared his throat, and began to speak very slowly. It was as if he wasn't sure what words were coming next.

"I want to be with you, as man and wife... but I know I'm away a lot... and I know you have needs. I can see that you love him in a way that goes way beyond mother and son... I guess what I'm saying is, when I'm away, you two can be together if that's what you want."

He paused, she was staring at him open mouthed.

"You're giving us your blessing?"

"I guess so... but when we're together it's us, not you and him..."

She nodded, and began to say something but stopped when she saw the anguished expression on his face.

"But I think... God I can hardly believe this... but..." his voice trailed off in a confusion of uncertainty.

"What?" she asked.

He swallowed, burying himself deeper, but he couldn't help it.

"I'd like to watch you though – just one more time."

"Oh Roger..."

She was stunned. And then, shockingly, she started to feel a little excited.

"I'll have to ask Simon..."

"I feel very confused about this," he said, cautiously, "But I can't get over the fact that seeing you two together was probably the most exciting sexual experience I've ever had."

He paused. She was still staring at him.

"I love you both, and I want you to be happy. If this is what you both want, and it's not doing either of you any harm, you can continue."

"Oh Roger, are you serious?"

"Yes, I can hardly believe it, but it's how I feel - at least how I feel right now."

That evening, by arrangement, Roger walked upstairs to his bedroom - to the bedroom her shared with Clare. With each step he felt like turning round, but something pushed him on. He still could hardly believe what he was doing. Clare and Simon were already there, sitting on the bed side by side.

"Is this what you want dad?" Simon asked, breaking the silence. It was the first time Roger had seen Simon since he'd come home.

"Yes, it is..." he said, though they could see the conflict on his face.

"OK, sit in the chair over there. Please keep quiet. And don't join in. This is weird enough as it is," Simon said.

Clare looked at him, surprised at how in control he seemed.

Roger followed the instructions without a word.

Simon turned to Clare and began to kiss her gently. They kissed for a long time, hesitantly at first, but slowly the awkwardness began to dissipate. Simon wrapped his arms around her back and began to pull her closer.

Roger sat and watched. He could see the tenderness between them. This was love he was watching, he felt, and as he continued watching he became more certain of it. But it didn't make him feel any more at ease with the situation.

As if with some silent signal from Simon, Clare pulled away. She stopped herself from looking at Roger, but reached out to Simon, her hand on his shirt button, with a raised eyebrow.

He nodded, and she began to undo his shirt button by button, peeling it off his broad chest. Still without a word, he stood up in front of her, and she undid his belt and trousers, pulling them down. Her face was serious and concentrated.

Simon was standing side-on to Roger and he could see the big bulge in his underpants. Clare reached forward and ran her hand over it. Simon pulled her to her feet, kissed her again gently, and then undid the buttons on her blouse. Clare then took her own jeans off.

They stood in front of each other in their underwear, looking at each other intently. But then Clare turned to Roger again.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked.

With the faintest nod of his head he gave his consent, but said nothing.

"OK, I don't want to hurt you," she said quietly, "But we're going to do this now."

She turned back to Simon and kissed him deeply, her hand rubbing along the bulge. It was growing considerably, straining the material. Clare broke off the kiss and knelt down in front of him, and hooked her fingers into his waist band and began to pull it down.

His cock flopped out heavily, and she took it in both hands, rubbing along its length as it stiffened and thickened to its full prodigious size. Once again, Roger felt disbelief and almost horror at the sight. In profile it looked impossibly large.

Clare began to kiss it, slipping the end of its big swollen head into her mouth, and kissing along its length. Simon groaned, and closed his eyes. Her hands cupped his balls, as she widened her mouth to squeeze more of the head inside.

She was more practiced at this now, and began to bob her head back and forth, one hand on his balls, and the other rubbing along his length, making little noises in her throat as she sucked him.

Roger could hear the wet sucking noises. Despite his inner turmoil, he was getting hard.

Within minutes Simon was gasping, and signalling to her that he was getting close. She eased off the pace a little and pulled her head back to the tip, and looked up at him with a little nod.

She resumed her sucking with enthusiasm, and gripped his cock with both hands, wanking him firmly. His pre-cum and her saliva together made the most graphic slapping noise.

Finally, with a deep groan, his hips bucked and it was clear to Roger that Simon was coming, copiously, right into his mother's open mouth. She swallowed a few squirts of his cum, pulled back, and continued to wank him, as he ejaculated across her chest, coating her bra with his cum.

Simon fell back onto the bed, his cock flopping heavily onto his stomach. He lay back; his eyes closed shut, and groaned deeply.

Silently, in the corner, ignored now by Clare and Simon, Roger sat there, cock hard, turned on but full of horror and disgust at his own reactions.

Clare undid her wet bra, and smiling now, pulled it off her shoulders.

"I don't think we'll be needing this now..." she said, flinging it to the ground. She took off her panties and used them to wipe the rest of his cum from her chest, and then lay down next to him on the bed. She stroked his softened cock gently, and whispered, "Is there any more of that stuff in there, do you think?"

He opened his eyes, and smiled. "For you... always," he said, propping himself up onto his side. She laid her head back and he kissed her briefly, and gently stroked her hair back from her face.

"I think I better return the favour," he said, "You're getting very good at that, aren't you?"

"Well, it's not easy, you know, you freak!" she whispered so Roger wouldn't hear, "I thought I might get lock-jaw."

Simon kissed her neck, placing feathery kisses on her pale skin as he moved down her body. Her nipples were standing proud and he ran his tongue over one of them and started sucking gently, while his fingers played with the other.

Clare groaned, as her excitement levels increased. Simon alternated from one nipple to the other, pausing to examine them at close quarters, as they reached for the ceiling like stiff little fingers.

"I love your nipples," he whispered, "the sexiest things I've ever seen..."

She shivered as he continued sucking, and one of his hands moved down, across her flat stomach, and found her clit. As his finger traced a tiny circle over it, she gasped again and again, as he continued the teasing movements, until she relaxed with a shudder and a groan.

Roger was clearly long forgotten.

"I haven't finished yet," he said, as she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. He continued his kissing journey downwards, across her stomach, and inhaled deeply as he reached her neatly trimmed cunt.

"I love your smell..." he whispered again, sniffing the deep musky aroma. Immediately his cock began to harden, and he licked along her slit with the tip of his tongue.

Clare groaned again.

Simon's tongue found her clit and flicked at it, barely touching. He took long pauses between momentary licks, trying to build her anticipation. He took deep breaths through his nose, filling his lungs with the scent of her sex.

He could feel his hard cock pressed against his stomach.

The staccato licking tactic was working, and with each gentle but brief contact, Clare gasped, and her sighs grew a little louder. He licked along her slit again, and pushed his tongue into her, tasting her wetness. Her sighs were becoming deep groans.

With one finger he gently probed, while his tongue returned to her clit. Inside her warm space her liquids were pooling against his finger tip as it moved inside in small circles.

Increasing the pressure now on her clit, he took it gently between his lips and sucked slightly, pushing his finger deeper inside.

"Simon," she gasped, "Yes... yes..."

He pushed a second finger inside, and then a third, as he ground his face into her pubes, smelling deeply, sucking her clit, slipping his other arm under the small of her back to pull her pelvis up higher. If he could have eaten her whole, he would have done.

"Simon," she cried again, as her cries grew louder, and frantic.

His fingers sloshed through her wetness. Her body was rigid, her back arched. There were gasps, cries, groans. Slowly her cries subsided.

He moved up to lie beside her again, and she rolled over to kiss him hard. His face was wet, and he smelled strongly of her.

He pressed his hard cock into her hip. His need was growing, and she felt it, reaching down to squeeze his thickness, feeling his rigid desire. She responded immediately.

"Now," she said, and pulled his cock to her cunt as he moved over her, propping himself up on his elbows. His cock found its place and he sank into her, in one fluid movement, plunging deep inside.

They both made the same groaning noise, and he paused when he was all the way in, as they kissed open-mouthed, urgently.

His hips were bucking up and down. She could feel the walls of her cunt sucking back and forth. The pressure inside seemed to build, and his pace increased, moving quickly now.

With surprising speed their excitement built to a critical point, and he was thrusting in and out with abandon. Breaking their open mouthed, drooling kisses, he buried his face in her neck and braced himself on his elbows as his concentration went entirely to the tip of his cock as it hurtled in and out of her, in the equivalent of a 100m sprint.

He could barely hear her tortured cries, even though his ear was so close to her open mouth.

He fucked her until he thought she must break, until he thought he couldn't possibly keep it up any longer. He was willing himself to cum, and could feel the wave building from deep inside, but still it hadn't come, and still he continued his frenzied assault.

"Simon...." Clare was screaming, and he heard her clearly this time, and could feel her wetness pouring down below. It was the moment he needed, the key turning in the lock, and his cum poured out of him in a wave which felt like his cock was dissolving.

At last they were quiet as Clare and Simon lay conjoined for a long time. Her mind was empty, her body relaxed, but slowly she did remember her husband, sitting there in the corner, alone.

She raised her head and looked round for him.

The surprised noise she made brought Simon around.

"What?" he asked.

"He's gone," she said, "Your Dad's gone..."

"Roger?" she called out. There was no reply.

She pulled away from him, her heart beginning to pound, and hurriedly slipped a robe over herself and rushed out of the bedroom.

"Roger," she called again. No reply.

She ran down the stairs, and saw the front door was slightly open.

"Roger," she cried, her eyes filling with tears. She pulled the front door open, and started off down the garden path, looking both ways along the road. There was no sign of him.