My husband, Jeffery, died four years ago. It was peaceful for him, it seemed, though, with three sons, all teens, it was my life’s hardest challenge. One good thing was he left us well covered financially. It’s the emotional coverage that has been lacking and there was nothing he could do about that.
So, you cope.
Our two oldest boys are in college and there’s only Neil, the youngest, eighteen and a senior in high school, left at home. While, of course, I miss my two older boys, Neil is a good student, never any trouble, and nice to have around.
The emotional vacuum left by Jeff’s passing, has not been filled in any measure by anyone new and I’ve been left, like many single women, I suppose, to deal with matters as best I can.
For the first time since I was in college, I’ve now got a few vibrators and a dildo that provide me some sexual relief though never a good substitute for the real thing attached to a caring and attentive man.
So, my sex was strictly solo and, well, it’s all I had.
I mostly tried to take care of my sexual needs when Neil wasn’t around as I do like to enjoy my masturbating as much as I can and, well, sometimes, I get a bit spirited and vocal. But finding just the right time isn’t always possible so, one night, I’d gone to bed and was using the dildo, I often forgo the vibrators when Neil is home, and I was in just the right mood for the feelings to be much better than usual.
So, I suppose I was a little louder than normal when I began hearing sounds from his end of the hallway. Of course my door was closed, his usually is as well but, after all, the rooms in the house are connected by heating ducts so I suppose that might be how I heard him.
There was little doubt of what I was hearing, my son was obviously masturbating as was his mother down the hall from him, masturbating as well.
Knowing Neil was doing the same, I tried to hold down my orgasm but, well, maybe there was a bit of extra eroticism in us doing it together in time if not space, and I was a little louder than I’d intended.
About a minute after I’d orgasmed, Neil, quite obviously, had a roaring orgasm himself that could not be mistaken for anything but. I lay there, part of me rather turned-on by it all, part of me rather wanting to put the whole thing out of my mind and fall asleep.
At breakfast the next morning, it was a Saturday, I fixed him bacon and eggs, the usual weekend fare he likes, and when I sat down with him while he ate, he said, quietly, “I really enjoyed last night, Mom, you know, when we were both, um, you know, getting off.”
I felt my face warm and I just sipped some more of my coffee not knowing how to respond or even if I should.
When I didn’t reply, he added, “I really thought it was cool to hear you cum when you did, I’m glad you have some enjoyment, you’re still too young not to.”
I just sat there, really at a loss, when he went on, “When I heard you, it just made me so hard, well, that I just had to do it myself.”
I finally said, “Um, I did hear you as well, at the end, especially.”
“We could do it together, Mom, it was really pretty cool last night, might even be better that way, doing it together. I’ve heard you before and, well, it’s always been pretty hot listening to you. When I do, it helps me get off and, well, I would’t mind if you saw me doing it.”
I simply had no words that would come out of my mouth as he added, “I’ll bet we would both be happier doing it together.”
I soon left the kitchen, still unable to voice anything about his suggestion. But, it did not leave my thoughts, especially when I masturbated later that night. There were images of Neil, naked, stroking his penis as I lay opposite him, legs splayed, fingering deeply, both of us looking at each other as our passion erupted in unison. I tried to shake these thoughts away but they kept coming back unbidden.
Then, several days later, he returned to the subject as we were finishing supper.
“Have you thought about my idea, Mom, that we get ourselves off together?”
If I’m being honest, as soon as he said it, there was a feeling between my legs. I am human, after all, and some things happen whether you want them to or not.
“Honestly, Neil, I haven’t, it just seems, well, improper for a mother and son to do something like that.”
“We both have needs and desires, Mom, they’re natural, you taught me that yourself.”
“Yes, I know, but…well somethings are private.”
“Okay but answer me this: Does the idea turn you on some? Be honest.”
Shit. Be honest. Now what?
“Well, I don’t see what that has to do with it,” I put right back to him.
“It has everything to do with it, Mom. Look, we’re both lonely, single, unattached. A little fun for ourselves is all we have, why not try to make it more fun, more, um, erotic, more enjoyable. I won’t ever tell anyone, you know that. It’s just you and me.”
“But, well, I’m your mother not your girlfriend,” I said, knowing it was a pretty lame argument.
“If that’s supposed to mean that you’re not sexy any more, well, I can tell you that you are wrong, very wrong. Maybe you’ll be mad at me but I can tell you that you give erections to your youngest son, you’re pretty hot, Mom. Why not enjoy it? We’re both lonely, why not?”
Damn, I thought, he’s right in a way. What would it be to get naked with my son and for each of us to have some solo fun?
So, I told him, “Well, we could try doing it in the same room, maybe with a sheet over our middles. But that’s all I’m prepared to do.”
“Okay, we can try that, why not?” he said with a rather mischievous grin on his face.
So, we watched TV until about ten, then he asked me, “Think we could try our new thing?” again, with that cute grin of his.
We got up and I went into my bedroom and got down to my bra and panties and got in bed, pulling the sheet up to my stomach. A minute later, in walked my youngest son in his briefs, quite tented-out, with a bottle of hand lotion, a beach towel and the grin he had on earlier.
He sat in a chair and put the towel over his lap and slid his briefs to the floor. I guess this was it, I thought, as he squirted some lotion on his palm and put his hand under the towel which began spearing straight up and down leaving no question as to what was happening underneath.
I suppose my part of the bargain was to also supply a bit of erotic interest by baring my breasts, which, thankfully, had mostly maintained their shape and lift over the years, I did look pretty good for a thirty-nine year old woman who has had three children. I was MILF material, I felt sure, but I was still hoping that my son would find me attractive, I am human, after all.
So, I reached around as I caught his eyes glued to me, unhooked my bra and pulled it off my arms.
I was hoping he wouldn’t say anything but he did, “Oh, Mom, you’re beautiful, really beautiful.”