The New and Improved Mrs. Mayfield

Tommy Mayfield walked quietly across the kitchen floor until he was within an inch or two of his mother. Busy washing dishes, she failed to notice him until he reached around her, grabbed her breasts and gave them a light squeeze and nuzzled the back of her neck.

Startled, she released her grip on the plate she was holding, turned and slapped her 19 year old son as hard as she could.

"Don't you ever touch me like that again," she yelled.

The two of them, mother and son, stood face to face, each taking the measure of the other. Only seconds into their stare down, Mary Mayfield spoke again.

"Do that again," she told him, "and I'll let your father know about it."

Tommy Mayfield's mouth twisted into a combination that was part snicker and part smile. "I don't think you wanna do that."

"And why not?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"Because you don't want a divorce, that's why."

Tommy's mother hunched her shoulders as she leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. "And, just what does you mauling me have anything to do with my marriage to your dad?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"Because," he began by dragging out the word. "Because you don't want him finding out about you and Deacon James."

"Deacon James? I wouldn't give that blowhard the time of day!"

"That's what you were doing all right. Down on your knees in the preacher's office with his cock buried so deep in your mouth that your nose had all but disappeared in his pubes. Looked like a first class blow job to me."

Mary Mayfield gasped. She straightened her body, turned back toward the sink and clenched her fists. "How could he know about that?" she asked herself. "How could anybody know? We've always been so careful!"

Tommy saw his mother's shoulders heaving as if she were crying but he heard nothing except for her deep breathing. It was when she turned back to face him that he saw a single tear rolling down her left cheek.

She looked so pitiful that, for a few seconds, he actually considered aborting his plan to seduce her. He was almost to that point when the overwhelming desire to make her his regained control.

Tommy stepped forward and, once again, filled his hands with her more than ample breasts. He could feel her trembling. Emboldened by her lack of resistance, he moved his hands down her body until they were resting on her hips. He pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers.

Shocked that her own son was making sexual advances toward her, Mary Mayfield pulled away from his grasp and leaned against the counter behind her. "Do you realize what you're asking?"

"I know exactly what I am asking," Tommy told her. "And you're going to provide it. Any time I ask and anywhere I choose."

Mary Mayfield already knew the answer to her question before she asked it. "And what if I refuse?"

"Simple," he smirked. "I tell Dad just as soon as he gets back from Dubai. Dad divorces you and you're left without a dime to your name." He caressed her cheek. "You don't want that to happen. Do you?"

Resigned to her fate, Tommy's mother reached for his crotch. He pushed her hand away.

"B-but I thought this is what you wanted," she stammered.

"It is," he replied as he began to unbutton her blouse. "But I want something else first."

"Wh-what do you want?"

"Your soul."

Mary Mayfield watched stoically as Tommy's hands went from button to button. When he had succeeded in opening the last one, he spread the blouse wide, exposing her bra covered breasts.

Quickly, he pushed her bra up and over her magnificent mounds, exposing two almost perfectly shaped breasts with areolas almost the size of his fist.

Tommy took a nipple into his mouth and caressed it with the flat of his tongue while rubbing his thumb back and forth across the other one.

Despite her resolve, Tommy's mother felt herself getting aroused. A low moan escaped her lips as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Lord knows," she thought. "Max hasn't touched me like this in almost two years."

Tommy, surprised to hear his mother moaning, moved his mouth to her other breast as his other hand moved to undo the button on the waistband of her skirt.

Determined not to show any more signs of her arousal, Tommy's mother stood unmoving as her skirt slid over her hips and landed in a pile on the floor at her feet.

"No!" she told herself. "This isn't right." She pushed her son away from her and stood trembling before him. No matter how good he was making her feel, it was wrong and she must tell him so.

"Isn't there any other way to get through this?" she pleaded.

Tommy slowly shook his head.

Resigned to her fate, Mary sighed heavily. "Well," she began, "if you're determined to go through with this, we might as well be comfortable while we're doing it."

She moved past him and made her way into her bedroom, her son close behind. She stopped at the edge of the bed, removed her blouse and laid down on her back. She closed her eyes and waited for Tommy to join her.

A few seconds passed before Tommy Mayfield joined her on the bed. He began by kissing her lips. Realizing she was not going to respond, he moved on down to her breasts.

Tommy traced the edges of each of her areolas with the tip of his tongue before pulling a nipple between his lips. A second later, it was fully extended and sending messages to the center of Mary's being that she didn't want to acknowledge. Those feelings intensified when he began nibbling on her other nipple.

Inside, Mary Mayfield was an emotional wreck. Part of her wanted to accept her son's advances while another part of her wanted to kick him out of bed and tell him to leave her alone.

She knew it was wrong to let him continue but it had been too long since anyone had touched her like her son was touching her now. Her own husband had barely even looked at her in the past half year and that perverted old Deacon James just used her for his own satisfaction. Not once did he try to give her any pleasure.

Tommy palmed her sex over her very wet panties. That's when Mary knew that pretending time was over. "Oh, god," she moaned as she lifted her hips and thrust her mound against his hand. "I'm surely going to straight to hell."

Almost frantically, she grabbed the waist band of her panties and pushed them past her hips. Tommy took over and pulled them down her legs and off her feet, tossing them on the floor.

Tommy continued nibbling on his mother's nipples before kissing and licking his way down to the edge of her hairy mound. She could feel his hot breath on her wet sex as he nuzzled his way through her dense forest of pubes.

Mrs. Mayfield gasped loudly when she felt her son's tongue probing between her outer lips. "Yesssss, son," she cried.

The heat inside of her was quickly building to a crescendo. She knew it wouldn't be long before her dam burst. She hated herself for giving in and allowing her own son to sexually manipulate her. Yet, at the same time she was grateful that someone was once again paying attention to her needs.

The invasion of his mother's warm, moist center began with slow, tentative strokes of his tongue along her inner wall. He wrapped his arms around her upper thighs and used his thumbs and forefingers to hold her open. Each push of his tongue went deeper than the last, elevating her level of excitement until her will to resist had all but faded into obscurity.

Mary Mayfield filled her hands with his long locks and pulled him into her. "My clit," she gasped. "My clit!"

Tommy ignored her pleas. Instead, he moved downward and began to tease her wrinkled brown hole.

"Oh, ffffffuck!" she screamed. Never in her life had she experienced such unbridled passion. It was as if she'd died and gone to heaven. And the thought that this moment had been brought on by the ministrations of her own son had been temporarily set aside.

On a whim, Tommy licked the area from his mother's asshole to her pussy. That's when he knew she was his to do with as he wished.

Tommy's mother inhaled quickly and deeply. Her hips lifted from the bed. She pulled his face even closer until his nose was buried in her magnificent fuck hole. She maintained her death like grip as her entire body shook with her need to orgasm.

Barely able to breathe, Tommy continued dragging his tongue along the length of her perineum. It was when he inserted his forefinger in her ass and began sawing it in and out of that tiny, wrinkled orifice that Mrs. Mayfield achieved her objective.

Mary announced her release in an almost unrecognizable voice. "Yessss!" she hissed. "Saints preserve me, I'm cummingggg! Oh god, I'm really cumming!"

Unable to maintain her position any longer, Mrs. Mayfield released her grip on her son's hair as her butt sank back down to the bed. Tommy gulped air into his lungs in massive quantities as he struggled to breathe normally. He lifted his face, now completely saturated with her juices, and looked directly at his mother.

Mary Mayfield lay unmoving, her eyes closed and her face still twisted from experiencing a most powerful orgasm. Her mouth opened several times without issuing a sound.

Finally, her eyes opened, she lifted her head to look at her son, his breath still blowing hot on her open sex.

"You are one evil bastard," she told him. "You took advantage of me."

"I didn't hear you complaining very much."

"Well, you're hearing me now," she said.

"You might as well get used to it, 'cause we're going to be doing things together for quite some time."

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Mary told her son.

"What do you mean by that remark? After I tell Dad about you and Deacon James, you really think he's gonna believe anything you tell him?"

Tommy's mother laughed lightly. "I'm not going to give you the chance."

"Huh?"

"I'll tell him myself. Now get the hell out of my bedroom and don't ever touch me like that again!"

*****

The next three days passed with mother and son barely speaking to each other. On the fourth day, Tommy came home from spending the day with his friends to find his mother sitting on the sofa crying. He sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"What's wrong, Mother?"

She said nothing. Her crying continued. Again Tommy asked her what was wrong. She turned to him and hugged him tightly. With a supreme effort she managed to stop crying. Between sniffles, she told him, "It's your father."

"Dad? What happened? Is he hurt? What happened?" That's when he saw the paper in her hand.

"Your . . . father," she repeated as she handed the paper to him. "It came in the mail today."

Tommy read the words his father had written to his mother and cursed loudly. "That son-of-a-bitch! He's found someone else? How could he do this to you?"

"I don't know, son. I just don't know."

Tommy's mother continued her sniffling as she nuzzled his shoulder.

"Everything will be okay, Mother," he told her as he began to lightly stroke the back of her head. "I'm here. I'll take care of you."

Mary pulled her head back and looked at her son. "You're all I have left." She pressed her lips to his and mumbled, "All I have left."

The heat of his mother's lips once again summoned his oppressed desires for this forbidden flesh. He could feel his maleness harden to an almost painful condition. He ran his tongue lightly over her lips.

Her initial response was to keep her mouth closed, letting his tongue continue pressing against her lips. After several seconds she opened her mouth and granted him entry. Both mother and son moaned lightly as their tongues did battle.

Tommy's hands began exploring his mother's body, eventually coming to rest on her shoulders, supporting her weight as he gently lowered her down on to the sofa. He slid his hand under her blouse and over her stomach to her bra.

"I love you, Mother," he whispered as he pushed her bra up and uncovered her breast. He could feel her nipple as it hardened against his palm.

"No, son," Mary told him. "This is wrong. We can't."

"Why is it wrong?" he asked. "You've been abandoned by the very person who promised to love you forever. I love you and would never hurt you like that." He flicked his thumb back and forth across her nipple.

"You're my son. I'm your mother."

"I'm a son who wants to make love to his mother. How else can I prove my love for you?" He kissed her on the chin.

"I want to, son. More than anything. You made me feel better in one night than your father did in all the years we've been married. But we can't."

Tommy Mayfield knew that it was useless to continue. He removed his hand from under her blouse and moved to a sitting position on the edge of the sofa. He turned to look at his mother.

"Whenever you're ready," he said. He stood and walked into the kitchen.

As soon as her son was out of sight, Mary stood and made her way to her bedroom where, after she had locked the door behind her, she disrobed and walked into her bathroom. Tears welled up in her eyes as she began to reminisce about the times she had bent over the sink and allowed Max to plow her tight furrow from behind. Then, despite her tears, a smile creased her lips as she remembered a time, only weeks into their marriage, when she rode him as he sat on the toilet. Just about to cum, her pussy was sliding up and down his hardened pole at an ever increasing speed when his cock slipped completely out of her.

Fueled by her mounting passion and her need to orgasm, she paid it no mind until, on the down stroke, her pussy had not reclaimed its prize as it had done so many times in the past. Somehow, one, or the both of them, had shifted positions and his magnificent tool went straight up her ass!

She squirmed a bit with the memory of the first time she'd had anything larger than her husband's finger inside her back door. She had not liked it at all and told him in no uncertain terms to take it out.

He'd complied with her demands but the seed had been sown and after a few years he was able to talk her into letting him put it in her ass and fucking her until he had shot a huge load deep inside her bowels. That's when she found out how much she really loved anal sex.

Tommy's mother turned the shower on and, after giving the water time to get hot, stepped inside and closed the curtain.

The warmth of the water did nothing to quench the rising fires of desire. As if her hand had a will of its own, it slowly slid down her stomach through the dense forest of her pubes until her fingers were touching her throbbing clit.

Her first few strokes were tentative at best. As she continued pleasuring herself, they became stronger and faster, allowing herself to climax in almost record time.

Mary Mayfield slowly slid to her knees, gasping loudly and completely oblivious to the running water as it cascaded down over her shoulders.

It took her more than a couple of minutes before she could stand. When she was finally able to remain upright without fear of her legs giving out on her, she finished her shower, turned the water off and grabbed a towel. She patted herself dry, slid the curtain back and stepped out of the shower.

She dropped the now dampened towel into the hamper, opened the door and went to her dresser. After several seconds of indecision about what she was going to wear to bed, she chose a black, nearly transparent chemise with matching bikini panties.

Just as she was about to pull the covers back and climb into bed, she heard Tommy calling her.

"Yes, Tommy," she answered. "What do you want?"

"You've gotta come see this!" He answered.

"Can't it wait 'til morning? I'm tired and sleepy."

"Mommm," her son said. "This is something you don't want to miss."

"Well, alright," she told him. "But, this better be good."

Halfway down the hallway she remembered what she was wearing. "I really should get a robe or something," she thought. "One look and his hormones will be raging."

She stopped, turned to look at her open bedroom door and decided against going back for something to cover herself with. "It's probably nothing," she whispered to herself. "I'll be back in bed in a jiffy." She turned back and continued toward the living room. One look at her son and she knew it was something serious.

Tommy Mayfield barely looked at his mother and then he nodded toward the TV. He clicked the play button on the remote and sat down on the sofa. His mother stood with her mouth agape as the program resumed.

"This just in," the announcer began. "We have just learned that international financier, Maxwell Mayfield, has been arrested in Dubai just as he was boarding a plane for the U. S. A search of his luggage revealed that he was carrying a half kilogram of cocaine. If convicted, he is facing a lengthy prison term."

Mary Mayfield's hand flew to her open mouth. "Oh, my god!" she exclaimed. She slowly slumped to the floor, no longer hearing what the newscaster was saying.

Tommy rushed over to his mother. He helped her to her feet and led her to the sofa, hugging her as they sat down side by side.

"This is too much for me to handle all in one day," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned towards her son. "What am I going to do?"

"Don't worry, Mother. You still have me. You'll always have me."

From the moment Mary Mayfield leaned in to kiss her son, she had already made up her mind that, tonight, she was going to get the kind of loving she'd been craving for so long, even if she had to get it from her own son.

"To hell with that son of a bitch," she thought as their lips met. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close as her tongue pushed its way between his lips.

Tommy, surprised by his mother's boldness, was slow to respond. After a moment of hesitation, his lips parted and his mouth opened, allowing her tongue to move inside.

The headiness of that first kiss left them both breathless, causing them to pull apart after only a few seconds.

"Wow, Mom!" Tommy exclaimed. "What brought this on?" he asked.

Mary smiled and whispered to him, "Take me, son. It's time to make me yours."

"Are you sure, Mom? I mean, don't do this just because you want to get even with Dad. I don't want you that way."

Mary Mayfield took her arms from around Tommy's neck. She held his hand in hers and stood, pulling him up with her. Not a word was spoken as she led him to her bedroom.

Tommy's mother sat on the edge of the bed and reached for his belt buckle. He looked her in the eye as he held her wrists in his hands. "Are you sure, Mother?"

Mary's smoldering eyes was all the answer Tommy needed. He released his grip and watched her undo his belt buckle and the snap in the front of his pants.

"I never knew the sound of my zipper being pulled down could be so exciting," Tommy thought.

The next couple of seconds seemed like an eternity. Tommy felt like he was watching a movie in slow motion as his pants fell to the floor around his feet and his mother reached into his boxers and pulled out his turgid member.

Mary's son stood on trembling legs as she leaned forward. The softness of her lips as she slid them across the head of his twitching cock and down the shaft was almost more than he could stand. Soon, her nose was buried in his hairy groin.

Tommy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she licked the length of his hardness. "My god, Mother," he hissed. "I feel like I'm gonna cum already."

Mrs. Mayfield grabbed her son's hips and held him in place, her lips sliding up and down the length of his twitching cock. His sudden swelling told her that his time was, indeed, near. She drug her fingernails across the underside of his testicles, causing Tommy to flood her mouth with his youthful white fluids.

Mary Mayfield tried to swallow each and every drop as his cock contracted and spewed out his baby making juices but, there was just too much and, to her disappointment, some of it leaked out and ran down her chin.