Taken By My Son

I must have shown my relief, as he grinned and continued,

"No babe, I want men to see you but never be allowed to touch." he continued, "How do you fancy a bit of flashing and exhibitionism?" he grinned.

Without a detailed explanation on how we arrived there, we found ourselves in a situation where I would go out with the sole intention of letting as many men see up my skirt as possible. We would sit at pavement cafes, with (pantyless) me letting my skirt ride up my thighs, subtly opening my legs at specific moments to let total strangers who happen to be passing by, see my trimmed pussy. I learned to do this so naturally and subtly that it really did appear that a naive housewife had inadvertently allowed someone to see her private parts and was unaware what she had done.

The first time I exposed myself to strange men , sat having coffee at a pavement cafe, Adam could not wait to get home before he had me. We walked towards the car park for our vehicle, when I was quickly pulled into a narrow alley. My son's hands were instantly all over me, pawing my breasts.

"Jesus Vicky I want you now." he panted.

He pushed me roughly against the wall, pushed a knee between mine and forced them apart. I couldn't have stopped him having me, even if I had wanted to, and believe me my sopping vagina was testament enough, to the fact that stopping him was the last thing on my mind.

The urgency with which he took me, together with the excitement of a) strange men seeing my private parts and b) that a man (or even gang of men) could appear at any moment sent me quickly and noisily over the edge. I screamed my son's name as his superb cock battered me into submission. I just hung onto him limply as he emptied himself into me.

We were taking things slowly, but I was in no mood to dawdle. The excitement of exposing myself, with my lover's permission and encouragement, left me needing to escalate it, to keep it interesting and again an idea from the internet provided the answer.

Adam decided his woman should expose herself more intensely. He knew exactly how he wanted to achieve it.

"Don't plan anything tonight Vicks." he said, "I want to show you something on the TV."

Later that night, he connected the computer to the TV and sat me down to show me what was required of me. I was VERY apprehensive. What he showed me that evening was loads of examples how to set up a 'flash'.

When I was well versed in what Adam wanted, we would either wait until we knew something was due to be delivered, i.e. internet purchases etc or we would be proactive and order food. I was to prepare myself for the delivery man.

The location for my 'flash' would vary. We would either be in our own home, a hotel room or in a motel. I started by wearing low cut loose tops which I would pull down to expose the tops of my areole as I opened the door. At home we had a table and a mirror on the wall in the hallway, just to the side, and out of sight of, the door. I would turn away from the delivery boy under the pretext of putting the delivery on the table. I would lean forward making my breast become even more exposed, when I turned back towards him.

All this was very gentle compared to where we ultimately wanted to be in our sex life, but we embraced every opportunity to be sexy. By now I had reverted to a totally smooth waxed pussy. Adam said it would be better for showing to men, as they could see more. The lips of my vagina were slightly puffy, rather than a flat slit. Adam loved this he said it produced a rounded w shape that gave a superb camel toe (there goes that phrase he uses again) effect.

We escalated the 'Delivery Boy Game' further. I would go to the door with only a t-shirt on which only just covered my vagina. I had practiced in front of a mirror and was quickly becoming an artist where 'accidentally' showing my body was concerned. I knew which slight, innocuous movement would raise the t-shirt as it went over the swell of my hips, to expose my newly shaved smooth pussy to the stranger at the door. We resisted the temptation to become extreme or 'dirty' with this. I toyed with the idea of simply answering the door naked, but decided that was too obvious and that I enjoyed the subtlety of 'not knowing I was showing myself'.

By this time we had progressed to filming our activities. I grew to love to watch myself later, so we set up a webcam looking down the hallway to the door to catch the action that way. Wherever possible, Adam would stand flat to the wall beside the door, with a camera catching close-up action from the side. Eventually he built a false bird table in the garden only a few yards from the door. This angle captured the frontal view which the delivery boy got and was my favourite.

This may sound strange, given the extremes of unconventional and passionate sex my son and I had been exposed to, but we were finding this very sexy and thrilling. Every flash would result in us making love, sometimes passionately, but strangely given the games we were playing, it would actually be more of a tender, sensual coupling. Maybe it was because someone else had intruded into our privacy that we felt the need to reinforce and declare our love for each other.

I loved kneeling in front of my boy and taking his huge wonderful cock in my mouth, it was the subservient position I loved. I also loved feeling him deep and fully inside me, barely moving, whilst we gazed into each others eyes and continuously make declarations of our all consuming love for each other. I would often cry at this point.

As I said the flashing was quite a harmless and gentle little game, but somehow it really did bring us even closer together (if possible) in the bedroom.

I would fake being got out of the shower to answer the door, I would wrap a towel loosely around myself and stand in the doorway. As my body made the natural movements such as taking the goods from him, or reaching to take his clipboard to sign for the goods, to hand over money, or receive change, the towel would work loose.

As the towel fell to the floor I always hesitated slightly to allow this stranger a full view of my body, (and for the camera to pick up the action) before faking mock-horror and embarrassment at what had happened. If they could only see how wet I was!

By far my favourite flash was the robe. I would dress in a white towel robe to go to the door. Sometimes I even experimented with stockings and suspenders underneath, sometimes just naked. I would stand in front of the hallway mirror and position my robe so only fleeting glimpses could be seen of the body within. As the transactions took place I would constantly turn to the table, under all the usual pretexts and each time loosen the cord a little and just ease open the robe a little further. As I said before I had become an expert in this and made it appear the robe was simply opening of it's own accord in reaction to my natural movements. Finally I would stand (innocently and unknowingly) in front of a total stranger, my smooth pussy on open view, my nipples just visible as the top half spread itself too.

One day it all came to a sudden end.

We were in a hotel for the weekend when we set up a treat for the room service boy. As we waited I checked myself out in the mirror, there was to be no lingerie or anything today, I stood simply naked with a bath towel around me.

The knock came at the door and I let in the 'boy'. The room service guy was gorgeous. He was quite a bit older than me, which was a surprise, given the job he was doing. He was tanned, looked lean and had greying hair at the temples. He was as handsome as hell, cool, distinguished looking and had an aura of control about him.

I was a little flustered as he brought in my order and fussed around clearing a space for it and laying it out. My heart was beating more than normal, and I was a little unsure what to do. I played for time as he told me that he was the owner of the hotel and that they were catering for a large function, which meant they were short staffed. (That at least explained his unlikely position as room service.) I had exposed myself to many strangers in fleeting moments, but yet with this man, in only a few short minutes, I was incredibly turned on by the thought of letting him feast his eyes over my nakedness.

Somehow I felt alone with this gorgeous man, even though I knew Adam to be there and that I had been alone with men before. The thought of my ever stiffening nipples being seen by him and the idea that my vaginal lips, shaved and exposed, would be on show for him to see and commit to memory forever, didn't seem like harmless fun anymore. For the first time ever in all these games we played, I knew this was going to be, intimate, personal and sexual and there was going to be a heavy atmosphere.

I resolved to see this through.

This man was different from all the others, my knees went weak and my hands were shaking. Do I ran away or abort the thing here and now?

I decided to go ahead. I turned to him, subtly eased my arms from my sides and let the towel fall from my body.

I stood before him naked and excited.

I realised that the difference between this time and all the others was the absence of pretence. There was no mock-horror, there was no fake embarrassment, there was no fumbling rush to cover myself and there was no sham claims of it being an accident.

It seemed like an eternity, but was probably only five seconds or so. It was long enough for me to feel the little electric shocks in my lower stomach and the twitching inside my vagina. I quickly remembered Adam and I tried to recover some composure.

"What is my boy seeing?" I wondered. "Can he tell the body language? Will the camera find me out?" Were questions I considered.

In those five seconds or so, time stood still. We were brought out of our spell by noises from the bathroom (Adam had never so much as made a squeak before.) The room service guy obviously realising I had a man there, instantly switched back into professional mode and resumed his duties.

There was however, time for one last moment between us. As I wrapped the towel around me, around my back at first, I stood, arms holding the towel open pretending to get it in the right position. The few seconds delay in closing it, as I let him take in my body for just a few seconds more, were electric and obvious. As I reluctantly closed the towel around my nakedness, we looked into each others eyes.

Again it was for only a few fleeting seconds, but those seconds of eye contact spoke a thousand words, they said everything.

Adam's father then turned, taking a last fleeting look at me, and left the room.

Adam came from the bathroom when the man had left. He knew that something different had just occurred (although it wouldn't be until he viewed the video from the hidden cameras later, that he would get a true idea.) and that's why he deliberately made a noise. He seemed nervous and strangely afraid. He seemed reluctant to touch me and sat on the bed as though we wanted to talk. In the days or weeks to come we could talk till we were hoarse,

I wanted fucking.

My vagina was on fire, literally dripping small beads on my juices from between my small wet lips. I pulled Adam to his feet and pushed the robe from my son's shoulders. He was sporting a semi hard on, which was not normal as he was usually rock hard. I sunk to my knees and for what seemed like the millionth time, I took my sons huge cock into my mouth.

That was the end of the 'semi' I can tell you.

I kissed, licked and sucked his penis and balls as good as I knew how. I was a woman possessed, I needed this cock to be as big and hard and rampant as it had ever been. I needed filling to the limit, stretching to my fullest extent.

This was never going to be a long screw, I was too far gone. I simply climbed onto the bed on all fours and waited for my son to take me in our favourite position.

Adam climbed behind my and rammed himself into me without any preamble. His wonderful cock filled my sodden depths until I could feel his pubic hair on my ass. Even then he pulled my back by the hips, trying to get further and further inside me. It seemed like Adam wanted to use me as much as I wanted to be used. My son didn't know why at the time (but later it would come out of his subconscious when he watched the video.) but he felt like somehow he wanted to punish me for something.

And he did.

My son fucked me with a vigour, strength and violence (although not in an abusive way) more than he had ever done. Gone was our love-making, he used me like a rag doll. The only regret I had, was that I was so near orgasm, that I didn't get as long to enjoy the battering my vagina was taking, for as long as I would have liked.

As Adam pulled fully out of me repeatedly and re-entered me repeatedly forcing me open and closed in a blur. Screaming and gasping for air, clutching the bed clothes for all my worth, I came. It was as intense and body wracking as I have ever had. It drained me of all energy, so I just fell forward and lay flat on the bed while my son just used my, by now tender, vagina.

I felt guilty, for the first time ever, as my son fucked me, I had been thinking of someone else.

We lay on the bed, covered in each others juices, sweaty from head to foot. the panting slowly subsiding, my bruised and battered little lips awash with my boy's hot, thick and potent semen.

We both realised at the same time that the game we had been playing for these few months had come to an end, today the innocence had gone out of it.

Adam was jealous.

"I know it was all my idea sweetheart," he said, "But lets face it not everyman could take all these men seeing his woman naked." He looked down and suddenly seemed very vulnerable, "I feel that one of these days it might mean more to you than just a game and that somehow you might just fall for one of these strangers." he confessed.

The idea was preposterous, but I understood the fear to be very real for him.

"I never want to lose you Victoria." he said and continued, "I think it's time we nailed our relationship down for good, and I know just how to do it."

He was true to his word; he put his plan into action.

Eighteen months later, I was sat at the breakfast table, my dressing gown open and my son's first child suckling at my breast. I was also heavily pregnant with his second child.

Having made me pregnant I was indeed his for good.

The first time we made love with no protection, I conceived. At the very point of conception, my son's wonderful cock seeming to swell to even greater size, seeming to stretch me and fill me completely. As he pushed into me to the very hilt and emptied himself into my greedy and hungry vagina he whispered for the very last time.

"Mom."

Adam had finished his apprenticeship and had secured a really good position. His job and financial security was ensured. We moved across country and started life anew. I worked for a national retail chain so I secured a transfer to the new area easily.

Although my son was now 22 years old, he seemed a little young for the responsibilities he now had. However he rose to the challenge as a real man. We loved each other and doted on our children. I was ecstatically happy and head over heels in love with him, so to put the icing on the cake so to speak, we painstakingly researched how we could lie, cheat and defraud the system to make it happen, and in a remote little town we married.

So now we live as a married couple, my son left my life in that ceremony and my husband entered it. I no longer think of Adam as anything but my husband and love of my life. We have a wonderful marriage, a beautiful family and great life.

I decided at that point, that any subconscious feeling I had of being 'The senior partner' was unwanted. If I was going to be this young man's woman and wife, then I wanted to embrace that role and life fully. I wanted to be the 'little woman', I wanted to feel cared for and looked after, and I wanted my man to be strong and protective. I therefore decided to hand over to him all control in the bedroom (I wanted to give him total control in all matters, but there were a few mundane things like house finance, insurance, etc that he was inexperienced in.)

So now my husband is quite rightly master of the house. What he says goes, and I am only too happy to play the 'little woman' role. In everyday matters we discuss our finances, the household, our children etc as man and wife equally, but sexually I handed over to him all power, control and mastery of me. I get massively turned on at times with my subservient role

I relish the role of sexual subordinate and play it to the full. Adam takes me when/where/however he pleases, I have not and will never say no to him, or any demand he makes of me.

In the bedroom, I play any role he so wishes, I will act out any fantasy he may have, I will dress, perform or conduct myself in any manner he demands. For example, one of his favourites is a bit clichéd, but he makes me do the housework dressed as a French maid (I told you it was a bit corny) this invariably ends up with me stood, stocking clad legs and high heels wide apart, bent face down over the dinner table, tiny skirt round my waist, as he uses me from behind with his rampant gorgeous cock. I give myself to him without question. (I even offered him my bum to use if it pleased him, but he refused, my darling Adam said he loves me and would not harm me in any way.) No matter what I am doing if my husband says,

"Victoria, the bedroom now," I can't get there fast enough to serve my sexual master.

My son, sorry my husband, is still very young and needs (and is all too well capable of) sex everyday and my body is only too happy to be ready, willing and able to comply with his demands.

This is not an abusive situation, it is not a BDSM situation. It is just one where a person takes such emotional and sexual delight in serving the one she desperately loves, as anyone in a Dom/Sub lifestyle will attest to.

I have regained the same shape I had before I had my children, which Adam loves. I look great if I say so myself, so my husband demands I look my best at all times. Whether he takes me to smart places to show me off or we simply go out somewhere in the daytime with our children, I must look as good as I did in the Caribbean. I must make sure I am dressed in the clothes and lingerie he finds me sexy in and which shows me off at my utmost best. When we are out, I must stand, move, walk, talk in a manner that exudes sex and turns heads. With his confidence and maturity he is no longer jealous, other men lusting after me amuses him and turns him on, knowing that I am his property.

Adam is in love with me, he loves me and what I give to his life, so he has agreed to wait awhile and let me rest and enjoy our wonderful life and children for a couple of years, or until he decides when I am to have another of his children.

I wouldn't have things any other way.