Something Missing from My Dresser

"You're not upset with me?"

"Sweetie, sweetie," both my arms were wrapped around him, "I'm not upset."

"I don't know what you see in me really." I added an involuntary conceited chuckle as if inviting him to tell me.

"It's everything mom, how you look and a lot more," he continued to tell me about his attraction, "I like how your hips move, how you look in the morning, or after you exercise, by the pool and when you have your nightie on."

I must have been visibly blushing if he was looking at my face. One thing he couldn't have missed with his head on my breast was the pace of my heart; it was racing. He was seriously flattering me.

He didn't slow down, "Your eyes are so pretty, and how you laugh, and how you smile when you're happy...I like looking at your ass too." The last part was said in a grinning tone.

"Oh my, you like my ass?"

"Yeah, I think about it when I doing it." Justin said a steady tone of a comfortable admission.

My heart must have been beating out of my chest. Other parts of my body were feeling the effect too. My heart was beating with purpose. It was pumping blood, rapidly, to all my endogenous zones. Something that would have normally been embarrassing felt quite normalized. When I'm horny my nipples tend to stiffen in response, this was happening with my 19 year old son resting his head face to face with one of them.

"More than that, it's how you talk to me and go places with me."

This is something I would have thought was a point of contention. We did in fact fight quite a bit. I was amazed that, through any of that, he saw that it was all out of love. Everything we went through together was out of love. It was a warm feeling to know that he felt that for me too. With feelings so intense, it shouldn't have been surprising that sexual feelings came about. His attitude and mood toward me were born out of a need to hide his feelings and not in order to represent them. There were tears escaping my eyes, but not out of sadness, but rather because I was overcome with emotion.

"Honey, I love you." I was squeezing very tightly.

"I love you mom." That wasn't something he was in the habit of saying; I loved hearing it.

There was a long pause until, "Mom?"

"Yes, dear?"

"ummm, mom, are you horny?"

With all his honesty, much more than I expected I didn't want to lie, "Yes, honey, I'm pretty worked up."

"I made you horny?"

"Yes, sweetie"

With that, I felt his mouth trying to suck on my breasts. I let out a sigh and open my shirt for him and closed my eyes. Justin attached his lips to my right nipples, I cradled him in my arms and he began to light suck. When I opened my eyes, he was softly looking up at me. The feeling was incredible and the most erotic thing I had ever had done to me. Our eyes gazed into each others in this very intimate embrace. The bliss couldn't last forever and eventually I disengaged him for my nipple.

I was feeling pretty successful. Regardless about the attack on sensibilities his revelations may have been, that didn't bother me. The fact that he opened up to me, that he trusted me with very personal thoughts and fears was deeply affecting to me. He seemed so relieved to tell me, and grateful that I wasn't angry with him. On another level, I was feeling pretty sexy about myself. I never considered that I was the object of his lust. In his mind I was sexy and desirable, more than words I had seen the semen on my panties, these emotions seemed all the more raw in light of that. He was a good looking young man, and he had lust for me. Regardless of the twisted nature of my arousal at the thought, the state was undeniable.

We had become rather tangled up on the bed. I started working my way out from under his weight. It had been a very emotional talk, but it had to come to an end. His grip would become tighter before relenting, then tighten and relent again. I wasn't ripping myself away, but the direction was clear. During this twisting of positions his hips and mid-section came into contact with my thighs, at that moment I could feel it. Justin had an erection and he was shamelessly pressing it against my body. I didn't call attention to it as I made my way from his bed. I was standing over the bed; his head was almost covered in the comforter that he was now intertwined with.

"Mom, what are you going to say to dad?"

"Sweetie, don't even worry about that, it doesn't matter and he's never going to mention this again." I was reasonably sure of that, because I was far from through with the rage I felt about his actions.

For some reason I had to add, "Seems like you have something you need to take care of anyways..." I said this in a sly sort of voice that indicated I was approving.

There was a lot of tension in the room, tension of the unmistakably sexual variety. I was anticipating for some undefined moment, he must have been debating his next move. I turned to go, and leave the moment undefined.

"Mom!"

"Yes honey?" I had stopped in my tracks right next to his door.

"Mom...can I just look at you?" As he said this he pulled back the comforter to display his completely erect penis.

"Honey! Oh my..."

I didn't know how to react. I knew this was not supposed to be happening, but at the same time it didn't feel unnatural. I knew what he was doing about me and told him it was ok to do it; albeit I meant when I left the room. At that moment I wasn't weighing pros and cons or long term implications. I had one thought dominating all other instincts; the thought that I wanted him to look at me, and that I wanted him to do it.

"Go ahead." I said in an audible whisper while lowering my gaze and standing in one spot.

He positioned himself sideways on the bed with his head propped up against the wall where we were cuddling. His hand was going up and down on his cock. He was looking right at me with complete lust in his intense piercing eyes. There was something so sincere about every motion. I was frozen in my spot, unable to fully process what was happening. I was overcome with a sense of excitement and danger. He was engaging in one of the world's oldest and most famous taboos and I was enabling him.

I was dressed in a pair of high waisted jeans, nothing fancy but the type worn on the weekend. I had a blue floral blouse on that had become untucked and open in the front from our embrace. My hair was tied back to avoid styling it or having it flopping in my face. My feet where bare as were my fingers and wrists. I was looking pretty plain, but from the way he was looking at me it was making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

I'm not really sure how long this went on for; my perception of time seemed to have left me. The only sounds I was sensitive were the sounds coming from his bed. Little grunts escaped his lips without rhythm, the bed creaked slightly with each jerking motion and his saliva made squishy sounds as he moved up and down on his shaft. My every sense was heightened in the narrow view between us.

"Mooomm...please...can...I...s...s...see...?"

His very laboured request almost shocked me back to a state of reality happening in real time. With completely sober thoughts, I unbuttoned my jeans and started to take them down. I was wearing navy panties underneath in a bikini cut. With my jeans around my knees, I raised one hip higher than the other to give him a sexy pose. I looked him right in the eyes and didn't break contact.

"MOM!...ahhhhhh...mom..mom...mom...ohhhhh...mommm" His entire body tensed with these frantic utterances.

"Mommm...I...Love...You..."

He was cumming. His entire body seemed to contort, tense and strain. His groans were low and deep with emotion. I felt myself shake each time he said, "mom", in succession. I had never seen so much cum in my life. It shot out of his penis in long white ropes and spurts. Even when I thought it was over, more, still powerful, spurts ejaculated from his body. He was a mess, his bed was a mess; there was sperm everywhere. With my pants around my ankles I looked at him wide mouth amazement.

"Oh honey..." Was all I could manager to say.

Tension released its hold on his body and he sunk into the mattress. Complete satisfaction, without a hint of shame or modesty, was the look on his face. My eyes were fixed on him, on the mess he made, the bed we had just shared. The room was completely silent. I slowly started to bring my jeans back to my waist and buttoned the front and zipped the front. I must have been visibly shaken. The emotion, the tension and the culmination of his explosion combined for the most intense sexual experience that I had ever been a part of. The thought that I couldn't stand there forever flashed in my head.

"I will get a towel."

"Mom...NO!"

"What is it honey?" I said softly, "I'm just going to get a towel, I'll be right back.

"Don't leave the room...please..."

There was such a pleading in his voice I knew that if I left he expected a different me to come back. Perhaps one devoid of all the influences within that room that led us to that point. He wasn't at all hurt or sick, but I felt an uncontrollable need to console him. It felt like a deep maternal instinct, one that I can't do justice to try to explain.

I took a towel that was hanging on a hook by the door and went to sit next to him by the foot of the bed. I began cleaning him up. He didn't flinch. I ran the towel over his stomach and chest, where most of the sperm came to a rest. I could feel the definition of his lean muscles through the thin layer of cloth. Next I found where the cum had landed on his shoulders and neck area, taking my time to rub firmly and deep while removing the seed. I saw where the excess had landed on the pillows and wall behind him, but I ignored that and focused on his body. Cleaning him off was very sensual to me. He made no effort to hide his naked body. There was one more place to clean.

No part of this felt dirty or wrong, I felt none of the emotions about it that I "should" have felt. It all felt very loving and natural. In that frame of mind I moved the towel toward his penis and started to wipe it off. Within moments he was standing to attention again. I felt an undeniable urge to give him pleasure. I put the towel aside and spit into my hand. His body showed every sign of approval and satisfaction. I massaged his fully hard penis slowly and lovingly. Squeezing along his shaft and adding a bit of pressure around the head before pushing my hand back down deliberately. His cock was straining each time I slowly repeated this motion.

"It's big..." I said laughing nervously.

I felt him strain even harder when I complimented him in that way. I was more referring to his hardness, he has a very nice penis but it's by no means gigantic. If I had to guess, I would say he is between 10-15cm and beautifully shaped. His erection is straight with a natural upward point toward his stomach. There is a prominent vein that runs over the top, which gives the impression of strength and virility. His circumcised head is purple and fits nicely in line with his very straight shaft. His penis is one that is nice to look at for his very symmetrical features.

I was getting even more turned on handling it. I loved how his body tensed and relaxed in connection with my intimate caresses. The feelings of taboo emotions and excitement were creating a synergy between us that was making this much more than a handjob. The feeling was sensual, caring and peaceful. I squeezed very firmly, making sure to pay extra attention to the head. I wanted him to enjoy it, but I had reservations about going any further.

I wanted to suck his dick, I thought about just leaning down and putting it in my mouth. In the end I felt this was just too submissive. I hadn't stopped being his mother. I was helping him out, but not in a way that I thought changed the balance of power in our relationship. I was walking a very fine line, one that many wouldn't see a dividing line between the two actions, but the line existed in my head. Leaning over him and firmly stroking his cock, I felt a degree of power, I was pleasuring him but his body language took the submissive role. This was a subtlety involved in this new and uncharted water. He could have his day, but I wasn't about to get naked on his bed and, more importantly, he wasn't about to penetrate me.

I turned to look at his face, I saw the look of complete bliss, but also the understanding that anything else that happened that evening would be on my terms.

"You like it sweetie?"

"Yeah mom...I love it...I love you..."

"Honey, I love you too."

"You're sooo hard and doing such a good job." I encouraged him with soft words.

"Mommm...I'm...going...to...cummm..."

The effort to delay this eventuality was obvious in his voice, but once he let go he began having another heavy orgasm. I pulled and tugged at a faster rate and he shot more semen all over his stomach and chest.

"Sweetie...do you have a factory or something in there...there`s so much of it" I said with an incredulous laugh that showed my sincere surprise in the amount of sperm he had produced in such a short time.

"You could be a in a movie or something..." I continued the same line of thought in disbelief.

Justin took the compliments in stride and sat up on his bed. He looked completely satisfied. His eyes were all over me, they had the combined look of surprise and love. I handed him the towel, this time he wiped himself off. He looked so sexy.

"Honey, I got to go ok?" It felt strange to be asking his permission; it seemed there was a slight shift in the balance of power despite my efforts.

"I know mom...," he seemed to trail off before adding, "...and thanks"

"Are you going to kiss me before I go?"

His eyes flared and his eagerness betrayed any calmness he was trying to project in his demeanour. He crawled over toward the edge of the bed where I was sitting and we engaged in a kiss. It was short, on the lips and sensual. There was a good chance that his was his first real kiss, if so, he was good for a beginner. He kissed me softly, caught a bit of my lower lip when retreating, he didn't try to hold on too long or get intrusive. It was just a nicely place kiss on the lips.

With him ready to let me leave, I got up and slowly walked to the door. I knew, what he realized, that a different world was waiting outside this one on the other side. In a hazy state of consciousness, I made the decision to stay a little longer in the one we had just created. I unbuttoned my jeans for the second time, lowered my pants and stepped out of them. Justin was watching in silent and appreciative amazement, his mouth was wide open. I stood for a moment, in just my panties, made eye contact before hooking my thumbs between the fabric and my skin and removed the very wet navy cotton and polyester fabric from my body. I stood in the middle of his room, naked from the waist down, and allowed him to get a good look. The panties were in my right hand until I went over to my son`s bed and transferred their ownership. He took the wet panties greedily into his possession while he breathed noisily and excitedly.

"Thanks mom." He said softly and sincerely.

I put my jeans back on over my naked body, and finally, I left the room. I had seen this hallway 1000s of times but somehow it looked completely foreign to me. I stopped a second to collect me thoughts. I noticed the noise of the ceiling fan, it seemed to be beating in an uneven rhythm, as if it was about to fall from its screws. I watched it for, what seemed like a minute, before deciding that it was the same fan I'd seen a 1000 times and in no danger of collapse.

On my way downstairs, it occurred to me, that I had been in his room a very long time. I checked the front of the house and both cars were, in fact, in the driveway. I felt so removed in his room that I didn't stop to think about them coming back. I had no idea how long I had really been in his room, or how long they had been back for. Luckily they were in the basement, where we have a TV room; nevertheless, it was with a sense of trepidation that I returned to the rest of the family.

I only checked in for a moment to test the waters of the mood. It was clear that no suspicion was falling on my shoulders. I didn't feel bad for a second about what happened, but I wasn't far gone enough not to realize the potential for disaster had anyone realized. Lisa was rolling around on the carpet watching some show, at least acting her best that she didn't sense the tension in the room. I was still extremely angry about the stunt my husband has pulled early with his, guns blazing, approach to the incident. I gave him an eye rolling glare, one that clearly indicated my displeasure and further instructed him not to bother me for the rest of the night.

I went up to my study, where I have a reading sofa. When I sat down, I was so physically and emotionally exhausted that I feel into a very deep sleep.