What Hubby Won't, My Son Will...

"So you've never seen a pair of bare breasts up close?" I asked. My son shook his head.

"Yours just became the nearest I've been to that." He quipped.

I smiled and subconsciously leaned my head back, realising I had just given him an even better view.

"Would it be weird if I asked to see them?" He asked, responding to this subconscious motion.

I looked him hard in the eye. Of course it should be weird, so why did it just feel exhilarating rather than wrong?

Unthinking I pushed the straps off my shoulders and peeled my nightie from my breasts. My son gasped, his eyes near leaving his skull at the sight of my 38E slightly saggy but still full, breasts. I gazed at him as he marvelled at my breasts, no-one had looked at me like this since I was his age, it felt fantastic, and I felt ashamed and flushed with bizarre arousal at the same time.

His hand was twitching beside him and I nodded, as if giving him permission and he rose his hand and gently cupped my breast.

"What the hell am I doing?" I asked myself over and over but the only response was my womb screaming with hunger inside me.

My son looked into my eyes as he squeezed my breast, and I just smiled coyly and ran my hand through his hair. He began rolling his thumb over my nipple, with the tenderness and skill of his thousandth breast rather than his first. We instinctively shifted closer together and his massaging became more enthusiastic, squeezing and kneading my bare breast, jiggling it in his palm. I couldn't stop myself from nuzzling his neck and we shifted, my new angle allowing both his hands access to my breasts. He cupped them both and played with them, utterly hypnotised. Like some kind of possessed slut I shifted down the bed to lie flat and he followed, lying beside me, his hands never leaving my swollen breasts.

"Mum, I can't stop, I really want to do something." My son said, his tone filled with aching desire.

I gazed at him, our eyes searing into one another's.

"I...I want to too son." I admitted, confused but disorientedly certain at the same time.

I could feel my hips writhing against the bed and my son's crotch was rubbing against my hip, his solid erection throbbing against me.

I rolled onto my side and we faced each other, my bare breasts pressed against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. We rubbed our crotches against one another uncontrollably but neither of us dared remove our underwear, we just lay there, grinding together, staring at each other like frightened fools.

I hooked my leg around him and rolled onto my back, my son following to lay on top of me. He laid on top of me, between my thighs rubbing my pussy with his erection, separated by his boxers and my panties. We both awkwardly wriggled out of and kicked off our underwear and I lifted my nightie up and over my head and I realised, I was now naked underneath my naked son. Our bodies were writhing together and he continued to writhe against me. I willingly spread my legs for him and I suddenly felt a throbbing thickness fill me.

My son's erect penis was inside my vagina.

Those exact words flashed before my eyes as we gazed at each other, suddenly unsure of what to do next. We lay, my son between my legs with his bare cock buried inside me. "It's okay." I muttered, stroking his hair and he looked down at my bare breasts.

"Mum... we're having sex..." he whispered and I nodded. "I know... do you want to?" I asked, still suffering from a little shock.

"I do if you do..." he said.

"I want to." I agreed.

"Should... Should I be wearing a condom?" He asked.

I shook my head, giving completely in to this insanity.

He smiled and nervously motioned his hips back, easing out of me. He was thicker than my husband, I could feel my stretched tunnel contracting as his thick length left me, then he slowly eased it back inside. I arched my back as I was filled. My usual fantasy was nowhere in my mind, I was entirely here in this moment, and I realised I had a bare cock inside me, attached to an eighteen year old man with balls filled with potent sperm. I was instantly terrified then filled with excitement as I recalled my Google search; boys and fathers share DNA.

If my own son got me pregnant, my husband would believe it was his even if he demanded a paternity test. Condoms are only 99% effective after all.

I looked about my son's room, with his bikini-clad poster girls, bookshelves, videogame system beneath his TV, action figures on his shelves, the three-foot wide single bed we were laid in, I felt like a dirty teenage girl again, yet here I was, forty years old with my eighteen-year-old son inside me, and I had willingly spread my legs and invited him into me, unprotected.

He made love to me slowly, easing in and out. I gasped aloud as he began suckling my nipple. "This feels so amazing mum." He breathed, thankfully aware of the need to be quiet.

"I know babe, you feel so good inside me." I replied, lifting my hips.

The action seemed to be too much and he began gasping.

"Fuck, mum, I'm going to cum, I'm gonna cum!"

I didn't reply, I just held him tightly and gazed up at him. He laid flat on me and I felt his cock thicken inside me. His face froze in soundless ecstasy and his cock began jerking inside me, each jerk pumping a welt of burning sperm into my vagina.

I had not felt this in eighteen years.

His sperm kept pumping, filling me, each powerful pulse throwing more aggressive young sperm into my womb and I rolled my hips, welcoming this tide of semen into my valley.

As his last jerk finished he looked down at me in utter shock and rose, sliding his slackening cock from my tunnel. He stared at me, white as a sheet, kneeling before me on the bed. I rose.

"Baby, what's wrong?" I asked this of my son, before whom I was laid utterly naked, glistening with sweat with a thick globule of his semen leaking out of my vagina and down my arse cheek. On reflection perhaps this was a stupid thing to ask.

"Mum, we just had sex." He gasped.

The reality was beginning to dawn on me too.

"I wasn't wearing a condom mum, I finished inside you..." he whispered.

I put my finger to his lips. "I know baby, it's okay. Things just got out of hand, okay?" I reassured him, struggling to keep my composure.

"What if dad..." he said and I answered "Dad won't find out okay? I'll go have a shower and in the morning we'll act like this never happened okay?"

My son nodded and I rose, pulling on my nightie. My son gazed at me, looking lost.

I turned before I left his room. "I love you." I said.

"I love you too." He replied.

I smiled and left his room, closing the door behind me and showering quickly before I returned to my own bed.

I laid on my back, and realised I was lifting my hips subconsciously. I could still feel my son's sperm inside me. I hadn't even attempted to wash it out in the shower.

The next morning I sat in my car waiting for my son for his lift to college. He climbed in and we set off. It took five minutes for us to begin talking.

"Mum, about last night... did I dream that?"

I shook my head.

"Shit." He muttered. "We had sex."

I nodded.

We sat in a kind of awkward silence the rest of the drive until I dropped him off at college.

I didn't think about it again for a couple of days, and things kind've went back to normal. My son and I are still very close, the whole thing was so surreal I think we kind've accepted it was a dream. Our cuddles were somehow more "handsy" and he gazed at my breasts a lot more than he used to.

It wasn't until nearly a week later when we were watching a film on the sofa together that he slid his arm around me. My husband was in his garage drinking beer and watching football as usual, and suddenly we were caressing each other, he groping my breasts over by blouse and

We suddenly grappled each other own, fumbling with each other's clothes, and suddenly I was on my back and my son had thrust himself inside me. He gripped my shoulders and wordlessly we fucked ferociously, my legs in the air, the sofa creaking like an old gate. We could hear the cheers and jeers of the football match my husband was watching and felt sure he couldn't hear the sofa creaking or my son moaning with pleasure on top of me.

He thrust relentlessly and tensed up as I felt his bare cock jerk inside me once again, my womb filling with the searing heat of unprotected orgasm. He rolled his hips until he was empty then hurriedly rose and pulled his jeans back on, and I my work pants. Not a moment too soon as my husband suddenly came, walked through the lounge to the kitchen, took a fresh six pack from the fridge and sauntered back into the garage, the whole time we were sat, struggling to breathe normally, flesh flushed.

My son and I looked at each other, then continued watching the film.

We continued like that for a while, I would sneak into his room and we would have sex, and a few times we would find a quiet place to park my car and we would have sex there.

We never talked about it, it was just something we did when lust consumed us.

I especially wanted it after my husband had fucked me, after he had peeled off his rubber and fallen asleep, I would sneak into my son's room, wake him up by smothering him with my breasts then mount him, riding him until he orgasmed inside me.

About a week after my forty-first birthday I missed my period.

The resulting pregnancy tests made it certain; I was pregnant!