Talk Of The Devil free porn video

It started by pure chance – as so many of these things do, I suppose. But now? Well let's just say there's more than a tiny element of the deliberate involved. Let me explain...

When I say 'it started by pure chance' I mean that the discovery was accidental but the behaviour of my teenage son was anything but entirely normal. I'm Lucy, by the way, a fairly typical single mother – late thirties, single again after a reasonable attempt at the 'two are better than one' thing, still fairly presentable (enough to turn heads when I bother with ever-more-necessary make-up), a homeworker, vaguely intelligent (although you may beg to differ when you read this) – and something of an addict now, as you will see.

The genesis of this 'thing' was nothing more than a normal enough room-tidying session. I do these things occasionally, although my own mother will swear they never happen, and it was a normal enough day in every way. I had tidied the living room, my own bedroom, the kitchen, the bathroom, the hallway and, finally, plucked up the courage to venture into my son's room to tackle that one.

My darling boy, Jason, if a nineteen-year-old can still be called a boy, was – he said – having a gap year between school and university. He'd done the whole 'travelling Europe' thing and had returned to the family nest for a few weeks before taking up a seat at a non-redbrick and rather nice establishment. A few weeks that, apparently, involved quite a lot of drinking, partying, attending rock concerts and burning large holes in the savings that should have been reserved for books and living accommodation expenses for the next three years. I admired him enough for it all, though – enough, in fact, that I would never admit it.

He was as fairly typical as I was, I suppose – a typical late teen with plenty of new muscles, a ratty haircut, two motorbikes and some very dubious friends of both genders (but mostly males). That particular day he had taken himself off to one of the said friends to 'help him pack ready for college' – which I knew translated to be 'a couple of days on the piss'. As I said, a fairly typical teen.

His room was, to say the least, verging on the untidy. Okay, to be more accurate, there could have been a small tribe of pygmy rhinoceroses living in there that had never seen the light of day, but I was a brave soul – and besides, I knew there must have been at least three-quarters of a halfway decent dinner service in there somewhere and I was running out of plates.

In I went with a determined air, plus two large rubbish sacks, a gasmask, an anti-rhino crowbar, my mobile phone in case I got lost or k**napped, the satnav from my car, a week's supply of water and my sense of humour. Most of which I needed.

To be fair, it wasn't quite as bad as I feel I'm making it sound – but it was a tip. I located most of the plates and dishes, picked up a few pistons and sundry other oily bits of motorbike, pushed his laundry into the corner of the room (using the crowbar), and was about to beat a hasty retreat when I noticed that his laptop was glowing somewhere under his duvet. I had told him a few times – okay, a few hundred times – that this was a distinct waste of electricity for which I paid several limbs' worth every three months, and I went to switch it off.

I pulled back the duvet and sighed when I saw that he had left it while not only still switched on, but still logged on to some site or other.

Now, I'm not a nosy mother – or woman in general – but something about the screen caused me a slight pause and drew me a tiny but closer. The sort of tiny bit that actually allows you to read what the hell is being displayed.

In this case it was a chat site – an adult one, to be more precise. Now, I am not in any way averse to such sites, even for my own son and heir. He's almost twenty for heaven's sake, and I'm not stupid enough to think that someone of his age wouldn't dabble in such things occasionally – even using my electricity rather than his phone – but I was very much averse to him leaving the stupid thing logged on. As I said, I'm a homeworker, but very specifically, I'm a website designer and I know full damned well that such a behaviour can attract both nuisance hackers and even more nuisance-full advertisers. With a professional sigh and making a more maternal mental note to have yet another word with my wayward teen, I leaned forward with every intention of logging him out of whatever site he was 'entertaining' himself with and then hitting the power button.

My interest, though, was taken by the avatar name he had evidently been using. It was, of course, purely a professional interest... although my maternal instincts might well have been activated by the site's banner.

It was quickly clear that he had been chatting away on a site that was distinctly adult – the screen was plain enough, but the banner suggested 'erotica', the room choice was 'kinky mothers' and the top right-hand corner of the screen was dominated by bare breasts.

None of these things – truly and honestly – bothered me too much. Boys will be boys and teens will be teens – although that didn't stop me simply switching off the laptop rather than logging my errant son out of the site first. I left his room with the stack of crockery, crowbar under an arm, and a smile on my face. Naughty boy.

Later, though, I stopped to think.

*****

I had spent a couple of hours plate-scr****g and washing everything in the dishwasher a few times, but my mind kept spinning back to my son's choice of chat sites. And perhaps more precisely, his choice of chat rooms.

I wasn't so dumb that I couldn't figure that 'kinky mothers' was more than likely a sort of shorthand for older women who wanted to get chattily naughty with guys – or more probably somewhere for naughty guys to go and impersonate naughty women so they could get off when other naughty guys could pretend to be desperate teens. But there again... I kept asking myself whether it really was a site where actual mothers – people like me – went to chat to genuine teenage sons to see what fantasies they shared. Or experiences.

It should have filled me with dread, that latter prospect, but for some reason it didn't. It didn't excite or arouse me, but it didn't leave me cold either. What it did do was make me wonder which version of those potentials was closer to the truth – or if both were there to some degree – and just what the hell was Jason doing there in any or either case! Surely there were more obviously 'normal' places for him to go...?

Naturally enough I decided that, as a caring mother and in no way a nosy bitch, I should investigate a little further, just to make sure that everything was normal enough and that Jason wasn't being led astray.

As a professional in the website world, the very fact that I had switched off the machine without noting down the actual site didn't faze me at all and knowing that I had another few hours at the very least before my son came home was comforting as well. I even made, and drank, a coffee before I went to retrieve the laptop.

I'm not really quite sure that my motives were entirely derived from maternal caring and defensiveness, but I can still use such values as spurs if I really need to. In any case, I sat down at the kitchen table with a knowing smile and a 'you don't escape that easy, angel' look on my face.

A few minutes later the air turned, I can now see, quite a few shades bluer.

When you work at home, alone, you can develop a habit of talking to yourself. In this particular case, I shouted.

"You little shit! You've used 'incognito' pages!"

For those of you who don't know – and you bloody should – incognito (or otherwise 'secret') web pages leave no history of what sites have been visited. Or in other words, unless I remembered the precise name of the vaguely 'erotica' related site, I was not going to be able to find out what my little darling had actually been doing – and of course, I couldn't.

I swore a little bit more. Or quite possibly a lot more. And my next coffee was laced with tequila.

As I sipped away I did try to make myself wonder why the hell I was quite so annoyed or interested, but I put that down to my own stupidity and my own stupidity. How was I supposed to have known I'd be so obsessed, and how was I supposed to have known I'd be so obsessed? (Those questions and answers do make sense if you read back...).

But I was a professional, right? I could work this out...

As I say, obsession was already creeping in – and by then, tequila or not, I was already determined to find out what had been going on. Of course, I could have fronted up to Jason when he came home – but I wasn't silly enough to believe that whatever the truth was, he'd actually tell me.

And so it started.

*****

That first night I set out to try to find out which site he was frequenting – or at least had visited that one time (how was I to know?) – which at least would give me a hint as to the type of sites he visited. Mainly though I was interested in what he'd been up to the previous night... I could visualise the web page, just not enough to remember the darned site name – and knew I needed to make the effort while I still had some memory of the place.

To say that the search term 'kinky mothers' was pretty useless – given the seemingly hundreds of very, very weird hits – was an understatement of epic proportions. I wasted hours ploughing through link after link and seeing more flesh than I had in all the years I had been on the planet (not forty of them yet, but enough to see a lot of skin – in far more savoury circumstances!). I couldn't seem to find the specific site I was after, though, and perhaps, I started to think, that was just as well.

As I surfed my way through page after page I began to have some concerns. I had a very firm view that my Jason was as normal as it was ever possible for a teenager to be, and certainly not some budding kinkster with a 'mummy' fetish. And definitely not when the said 'mummy' might even be... well, me.

He'd never peeked, never become aroused in my presence, never gawped at me when he saw me in a bikini, never tried to peer down any top I was wearing, or up any skirt I might have donned. He was a normal son to a normal mum, nothing more and nothing less. I couldn't doubt that could I?

Well, could I?

Those pages, though... I mean, sure, some of them were in sites just aimed at women of a certain age (or guys pretending etc., etc.) who wanted to chat about sex and very odd sexy habits, but there were more than just some which were clearly targeted at actual sons rather than their mothers (or sons and mothers) – and it started to worry me just a tiny bit. Enough, in fact, that I knew I needed to find the actual site that Jason had been chatting on at least that one time.

I desperately needed to know.

And finally, I found it.

Wouldn't you know it, though? Despite my crows of success and despite my delighted little jig of triumph, it soon became clear that the page belonged to one of those sites that seemed to have a room dedicated to pretty much every fetish known to man.

And woman and quite possibly, ferret.

Jason, it appeared, must have been chatting but he could have been trawling through every one of the rooms for all I knew, and even then he might have just been visiting 'kinky mothers' for the heck of it, to see what others were up to, to hear blatant lies and inventive fantasies... anything at all. It should have quietened me and probably would have soothed frayed nerves had not a little, nasty, voice deep inside my head not added something about my son inventing a fantasy or two. Or worse...

But, I told myself, you now have the site details – you can check out just what goes on in that room. Always assuming you have the time to learn the lingua franca of chatrooms, and really do have more than a passing interest in what your son might be up to...

I then searched for a 'chat-speak' page and got reading.

*****

I wasn't dumb enough to use my own name (or any hints at it) when I came to choose my avatar the next day, although I did select a fairly accurate description. I was going to find out what other site members really were looking to talk about, and if they were going to talk about the likes of the real me – hence the fictional one I was creating could and should at least be an accurate-enough character in the physical sense.

Had I not still been somewhat concerned about my son's choice of topic, I decided I might even enjoy being an electronic – and very anonymous – version of myself. If I was honest, it was giving me a very gentle – but very persistent – buzz.

I logged on and 'went into' the kinky mothers room where I found eighty others. The names chosen by the other occupants varied from obvious males to potential females (no ferrets there) and displayed age ranges from eighteen (the site-stated minimum) to sixty-eight. I wondered what might happen next as the chat in the room itself was somewhat banal – dog walking and that night's supper being the 'current' topics, it seemed. But I needn't have worried for long.

I had chosen the monicker 'Real Mum 36' and this was, it soon seemed, a good choice if I wanted to attract attention. It had also been a very good idea to research 'room-speak' and the 'best practice' guides I had latterly added to my reading list. I knew, for example, that 'asl' stood for 'age, sex, and location' – meaning age, gender and location – and that if it was all that a message contained it was probably a very good idea to ignore the sender completely. I did just that and also pressed the 'iggie' button on anyone who used one word 'greetings' or, worse still in many ways, simply posted a link to some very dubious site or other. I was in my thirties and a professional woman with decent breeding – I already knew what a penis looked like.

It was at this point, though, when I started to actually rather enjoy myself. My first personal 'task' was to try to determine just who I was speaking to and it was soon clear that 'Fit Guy 22' was a probably very unfit guy in his forties or more, and that 'Saucy Mom 41' was more than likely a young male with a penchant for chatting to real women but who couldn't trust a real one so speak to him if he actually admitted his age or gender.

Now I am NOT going to educate males of any age on how we can possibly tell if you're fibbing or not but there are one or two basics you should understand about female anatomy, for instance, that would help. I know for a fact that more than one man disguised very badly as a woman has spent time chatting to another poor excuse for a female in the happy belief that he had cornered a lady. Given that the other guy probably thought that too, the result is hilarious from my perspective...

Anyway, I soon determined that the room was mostly made up of males who were between somewhere just under the stated site minimum to somewhere just this side of Methuselah. A smattering of apparently genuine women were also there but were often unavailable for more than a cursory greeting as their 'services' were avidly scrapped over by the males. As, indeed, were mine.

I only ever intended getting a taste of the 'private' discussion subjects – a feel for what Jason might have seen or talked about – but I confess that talking to young males about the most intimate of subject matters was rather addictive. Especially with me being the real-deal and a very anonymous one at that.

I also found that I was getting a real thrill out of pandering to young male fantasies, telling guys that I was stripping off for them, or feeling my 'full tits' and even – I admit it – stroking my neatly trimmed pussy. Not that I was, of course. Not back then.

I admit I almost did it for real a couple of times back near the start when I was sure my male chat partner was old enough but not too far out of college – because, I reasoned, I was interested to find out just what young males found entertaining, sexually, and of course NOT because it was dampening my panties. Well, not too much, anyway. For some reason that was unclear to me back then, my genuine naivety was well received – popular, even – but in all honesty I was genuinely more interested in my research than in the thrills I was starting to get ever more frequently.

One thing, though, started to make me think. I started to wonder if own son would ever try to strike up a conversation with Real Mum 36, and if so, what he might want to talk about – and also, whether I dare have such a chat even though he wouldn't have a clue who he was really chatting to. And that thought started to dominate my consciousness. I began to curse myself for switching off his laptop before I'd really checked out the site – and seeing what name he was adopting for himself.

Before long I had to admit that the thought of talking to my own son without him realising it was me started to appeal on all sorts of levels – some of which I tried desperately hard not to consider too closely. In any case, I reasoned, there was no firm evidence to suggest he even came into the Kinky Mothers room frequently and may only have ever been there that one time. But that wasn't likely, was it? But there again... what name would he adopt? Would he be just as anonymous as me and many of the others there?

Whatever the likelihoods I started to look for variations on 'Jason' and his nickname among his friends, 'Catman', often used but for no reason that I could ever make out. I started to look for any young male who also stated that he came from the same large town we lived near, and even any guy who listed painting as a hobby (something that had fascinated my son ever since he was barely old enough to hold a paintbrush without trying to eat it – even if he did sometimes still come down for supper sporting a multi-coloured moustache that was still dripping pigment onto his t-shirt).

Days and then a couple of weeks passed with no sign of my son – not that I truly thought I'd dare approach him in the room, even as anonymous as I was.

*****

When I did finally see 'CatmanDo 19' I thought it was a coincidence, despite the fact I'd been looking for just such a name. Even when I checked the profile and saw the 'young man' claimed to live in the right town, I didn't believe it could be my Jason. Or at least, my accelerated heart-rate wouldn't let me believe it.

I ignored the name and, despite my stated aim of finding out what the likes of my boy might discuss there, tried not to look at any comment CatmanDo might actually leave there in the room. Whether it really was Jason or not, though, I found myself just replying 'sorry, busy' to anyone else who tried to start up a private chat.

There was no way even if it was him that he'd try to chat to Real Mum 36, anyway, I reassured myself. I mean, it wasn't like a motherly figure would be of any interest to–

Hi there Real Mum, hru?

I stared at the words sent to me privately by CatmanDo 19. My already increased heart-rate sky-rocketed and I knew immediately that whether I tried to deny it or not, this really had to be my son. I took a deep breath or two. More likely twenty. Or two hundred. Fascination was flooding into me, though. And maybe something else...

Hello, I'm fine, hru? It took an amazing amount of determination to press the Enter key, but I managed it. Wanted to do it even more than it scared me somehow.

I'd spent hours and hours over the years telling Jason how honesty could make you strong, how it was always the best policy, always the way to go since it left no room for accusations that might otherwise be made, how it would make you feel better and more in control... But suddenly that all went out of the window. Now – now – I was going to be lying through my teeth (or at least, keyboard) and it wasn't just the best policy in these circumstances, it was highly necessary.

Good thanks just a bit restless

I stared and wondered. As far as I knew from my studies 'restless' wasn't a euphemism for anything, but every word was taking on a new importance.

Why restless? Something wrong?

Nah it's all cool

I could have ducked the issue then. Could have run and hidden, electronically. But for all my sudden nervousness, I wanted to learn more.

So... what brings you here?

Just fancied a chat tonight

I tried to stop myself thinking too hard – maybe this was the one and only time I'd ever be in this position, and as much as I knew deep down that it was wrong to be this sneaky, this nosy, with my own son, I knew I needed to act fast before my nerve fled. This was to ensure that he wasn't being horrible and weird, right?

Why an old girl like me then? I was surprised at my own – very direct – words, but this is what I came to find out, right?

Your name fascinates

So here was my chance... Would that be the Real part, the 36 part, or...?

All of it lol

My head was swimming a little, Even the third bit?

Mums are cute too, yeah

You think mums are cute then?

Mine is

I hit the off switch with a suddenly panicked hand.

*****

I found myself sitting next to my typists chair a few moments later, vodka in one shaking hand, my other set of fingers clamped over my mouth. Had that really been my Jason? And if it had been, did he really say that he thought I was cute?

A dozen yoga breathing exercises later, my heart rate was back down to three figures and one or two vaguely sensible – or at least vaguely logical – thoughts were trundling through my head like a car running on three flats and a prayer. I was being dumb if I didn't acknowledge that it really had been Jason I had been approached by, but he could have meant by 'cute' that I was just decent-looking. If 'just' was ever going to be the right word in any circumstances.

But I was also feeling a little flushed, a little... well... if I was honest – and I tried to be – a little tiny bit aroused.

I couldn't think straight enough to log back into the room right then but I already knew I wanted to find out more about my Jason's thoughts and feelings. And I also already knew that Real Mum 36 was going to be very, very anonymous...

*****

In the end, I let three days pass before I went back to the site at a time when I knew Jason would be up in his room, 'officially' doing prep work for his upcoming course. I had thought long and hard about what I was planning on doing – even thinking long and hard about whether it was right of me to do it. In the end I decided that it was a case of 'better the devil you know ' – just in case my boy really was having devilish thoughts. What I hadn't been able to plan is just what approach I would take should we chat again. Earlier chats with other apparently young men had been full of innuendo and foolhardy bravery on their parts, and it tended to be only when they honestly believed they were talking to an honest-to-goodness real thirty-something mother that things began to get very silly, very fast. I admit it, I found such times quite arousing. There were a few, of course, that became rather more calm and rather more interested in satisfying their own fantasies – and those in some ways were even more arousing.

My big question was would Jason firstly chat again with me, and secondly would he fit into one of those categories? If both questions were answered positively then I would – naturally – back out of things immediately, but I was becoming fascinated to find out just what he was thinking – or at least, fantasising – about and I knew I would need time to find out. It could turn out to be a fine line to tread, but as I say, after three days I was prepared to risk things. In all probability he wouldn't be there anyway.

I logged in and Real Mum 36 was back in the room.

My first question – would he even be there again – was answered almost before I could focus on the screen occupants' names as a message appeared in an instant from CatmanDo 19. I'll try to recall this and I'll add reaction times so you get some idea of what gave me – and Jason – pause for thought...

Hi Real Mom, where'd u go to the other nite?

Oh hello Catman. Sorry but I was disturbed – Immediate response from me

Reckon you will be tonight?

No I reckon my son will stay busy in his room – another immediate one

Gr8 cos I so wanna chat if u do 2

I think that'd be nice – immediate yet again

Ur really a real mum right? And I guess ur English 2?

Yes I am on both counts – small pause to make sure it gave nothing away

What u got?

You mean k**-wise? – immediate

Yeh

One teenage son – slight pause to weigh search for truth against identity, but a lot of women have just one teenage son so I figured it safe enough

My mums just got me so I reckon I know how he feels

Great – immediate but with eyes closed

Can I ask what u look like?

You can ask – immediate but playing for time

Its okay whatever u say really I like all sorts

Well – immediate bit still wondering how honest I could be. I wanted to get a real reaction though but how much did a young man know about actual sizes anyway?

I'm 5'3", 120lbs, auburn hair, curves and I'm still pretty enough

How bout the bust and stuff?

34c ¬¬– ¬immediate

Cool ur just like my mum shes 34c 2

Is that right? – immediate as I choked – how did he know that!!?

Yeh she looks well heavy on top cos shes short like u 2

And you think that's a cute look? – Took a while to think how best to distract him but got lost wondering just what he made of me

Fuck yeh mums like way hot

Your own mum? ¬– immediate, pure reaction

Yeh n I know its like weird for some but it aint my fault me own mums hot is it

If you say so – a lot of thought before that response – head swimming

I do

Is that why you come in here? – immediate as light began to dawn – if he took it out in here then I was safe... wasn't I?

U got that rite cos she had this white top thing on tonight and every time she bent down I could see rite down it U ever do that in front of ur boy

Really? And I don't think so – immediate but then a long look down at my loose white blouse

U don't think so

Well maybe a bit but never deliberate – immediate and honest but now I was wondering. When I scooted the chair back from the desk I really could see down the front of my blouse – and it seemed like Jason had looked too.

My mum had on this like really small bra

How'd that make you feel? ¬– Oh, he'd looked all right

I got way hard I could see the edges of her nipples

Areolae ¬– immediate as my heart threatened to choke me

Yeh them so hot

You get excited by your own mum's breasts? – immediate, unthinking

Fuck yeh n I bet ur son does 2

I've never seen him aroused around me – immediate, brain starting to head towards meltdown

Ha ha like he would let u see if he got hard peeking at ur tits

Do you get hard looking at your mum's? – immediate, I needed absolute certainty

My cock gets rigid do u mind that

No¬ – immediate, replied to before I could think – and shocking as I felt the heat start to grow

Would u mind if u found out ur sons did 2

No – slower response as I realised my answer was true – and that Jason would never know who he was chatting to here

Its natural for boys to look

So you're saying any body would do? ¬– immediate and I have to admit slightly disappointed

No way she gotta be cute

So your mum really is cute to you? ¬¬ - immediate and I have to admit slightly arousing

Fuck yeh I saw her in just her knickers and bra a few weeks ago n I nearly cum in my pjs true

What were they like, her underwear? – immediate as I felt a surge of heat wash through me. I remembered that morning, me thinking Jason had left for school and marching downstairs in my undies to find him sitting in the lounge. Those undies had been almost see-through and now he tells me they excited him...

O man they were like almost not there I could see mums nipples and like her thin pubes and this darker slit

Didn't you think to say anything? ¬– immediate, fascinated by the reaction I was feeling. In my head 'he'll never know this is me' was becoming a mantra – a mantra lending me freedom

Like no way she dont know I wank myself mad pretending im seeing her in them now

You masturbate thinking about your mum's body? – immediate, wondering how far I dare take this

Fuck yeh n I cum so hard

Is this chat turning you on? – a small delay as I wondered just how anonymous I was there in the chat room

Yeh I can tell ur real n thats so hot you getting wet for me

Yes – a small delay as I realise he really will never find out who Real Mum 36 is – and just how turned on she's getting

You ever deliberately show off for ur son

Not yet – immediate, no idea what I meant by that

I love the word yet what will u show him

Don't know. Maybe let him catch me in my undies again, he's done that just like your mum ¬– immediate, a hazy plan starting to form in my fantasy world

Hot but hes seen that already so what about no bra next time

Let my own son see my naked breasts? – immediate, wondering just what he'd say

Yeh let him see ur tits id luv to see my mums

You're serious, aren't you? ¬– immediate, needing to know to justify what I wanted to do

Fuck yeh I aint showing off or nothing but my mums is like soooo hot so if u r 2 I bet hed luv it

You do realise you're getting me very wet here? – immediate, the truth and I couldn't deny it

Wish I could see what u wearing

Blouse, skirt, knickers, bra¬ – immediate, no thoughts now but my body's needs

Take them off

I realised then that I could. Jason was in his room and he wouldn't leave the chat to disturb me, after all. And he didn't – and never would – find out this was me, his real mother. I could play, he could play and we'd just enjoy the pleasure with no kick-backs, no problems or complications. Of course I could never do anything for real but this was just some internet fun, yeah? And my body was crying out for satisfaction. It was so simple, really...

Okay I will – what have you got on? – a few seconds to think what I have said above

Nada

You're naked already? – immediate, fascinated

Yep I got my kit off when I started to think what ur boy has seen n what he will see

Blouse off here now, and you're talking about my tits, aren't you? – immediate, unable to think straight

U got that rite r ur nipples big like my mums

Big yes, and right now hard as I get my skirt off – immediate, almost teasing – but which one of us I'm not so sure

Wish I could see

Naughty boy, what would your mum say? – immediate followed by a long pause for thought – what the fuck was I really doing? Oh yes, getting hotter by the second

Probably tell me to fuck off if I saw her stripping

She probably would but maybe not if she was horny enough – immediate but for removing the word 'Jason' from the sentence just in time. So I guessed I hadn't actually forgotten who I was chatting to...

Are those gorgeous tits of yours free yet

They are right... now – immediate, pausing only to discard the bra, my fingers seeking out the waistband of my panties

Ur really doing this aint u?

Yes – that's panties off too – I'm now naked for you, wondering who you're really thinking about – me or your own mum? – Immediate, despite a realisation that I wanted to hear the answer – because although the person would be the same in reality, CatmanDo didn't know that and I wanted to know what he¬– my brain spasmed as the reply interrupted my fevered thoughts

U of course but my mum 2

You'd like to see her naked like I am now? – immediate, of course

Fuck yeh

And fingering her wet pussy like I am now? – immediate, logic circuits frying

That thought is making my cock throb got precum here already

What's your name, really? – a few seconds pause as I deleted my original comment which had that word in it again

Its jason can I call u mum

That's a nice name and... yes you can – long pause as I acknowledged what I was about to do with Jason

Thats mega mum I really wish I could see u n play with ur bare tits

I wish you could too Jason – immediate, we were just fantasising, right?

Im honestly stroking my cock thinking about u mum

I'm honestly fingering my pussy imagining you sucking my tits like you used to as a baby, Jason – immediate, gasping – this was actually happening!

Id love to suckle like a baby cos my smooth hard cock would be right close to u mum

Close to my pussy Jason? Or would you and your friends call it my cunt? – immediate but where that had come from I had no idea – it was never a word I used

Oh fuck mum yeh my cock close to ur cunt

Would you lay against me? – immediate, just fantasy, just fantasy, just fantasy

Would u let me mum

Yes – immediate and just fucking fantasy!

My cock would be pressing on your cunt mum

I know, Jason, I know – immediate

U know id try to fuck u mum right

Yes Jason I know – immediate, hot

Would u stop me mum

... No... –pause for delicious thought

My cock would push into u mum as I sucked ur tits

We'd be fucking Jason because I want your smooth, young, taboo cock inside my cunt baby boy – immediate, thoughtless

Oh fuck mum yes my own mum calls me that too

A lot of us do, you're always baby boys to us – slight pause and pathetic excuse, too far gone to think

Even when were fucking you mum

Yes oh yes – immediate, feeling control slipping by the second

Can I cum in u mum cos im so fucking close

You want to cum in me, baby boy? I want that too – immediate, with passion

I do mum I really do

This is so hot Jason and I want to feel your cum fill me – immediate and in this wild, new, fantasy so true

My cum in ur cunt mum I want that

You're going to make me cum too and I mean it, Jason – immediate and true again

Oh fuck mum im so fucking close

Jeez baby boy so am I, no joke – immediate and all control gone

Will u cum with me mum

No choice now and I mean it – immediate and had to be

My cock in ur cunt mum going to spurt in u

Do it baby boy, cum in me, cum in my cunt! – immediate and lost

Call my name as u cum mum any second here

Yes, my Jason, my baby boy, I'm going to cum on your hard cock as we fuck! – immediate, unthinking

Oh fuck mum im cummingggg

Yes Jason my baby boy... fuckkkkk – immediate, climaxing

In ur cunttt

On your cockkkk mmy Jjjasonnn – immediate, out of control

Oh mummmmmm

Oh fuck yes yes yes MY JASON – immediate and spoken as well, way louder than I should have been if I'd been thinking properly

Shit thought I heard something but I cum in u anyway

Ignore it just stay with me a minute or two – immediate, slightly desperate, eyes wide in slight horror

K was that really good I mean did u properly cum

I properly did – a few seconds pause when I looked down at my naked body, feeling shivers of aftershocks, and looked up at the ceiling beyond which I had just brought my own son to climax. But he would never know...

4 real

Yes, for real. You, Jason, have just made a real mother cum, and cum hard – another few seconds pause as I got my breath – and underwear – back, and worked out what '4 real' meant

Wow that was like the best

It was certainly wow and do you want to know a secret? – immediate and I wanted to make sure he knew, somehow, it had been so very good

Sure

That's the first time for me – immediate and so very true

Online u mean?

Lol – yes, and that's the god's honest truth – immediate and also so very true

That's awesome lol thought u were gonna say u really r my mum or something!!

Of course not lol – a few seconds pause as I pushed my heart back down my throat

Nah she'd never be so hot anyway but u were like awesome

Really? – immediate, fascinated to know if that was the truth, a semblance of the truth, or just teenage gratitude

I mean it u made me cum so hard

Good. And you did the same for me – immediate and grateful – that sounded like the truth to this newbie

U really did didn't u cum I mean

Yes, really – immediate because it was so true

And u never have online b4

No, you're my first, Jason, so thank you – immediate, and shivering as I used his name, my bra and panties hanging from my hand

I believe you

It's honestly true – a slight pause as I wasn't sure if his words indicated belief or not

I know mum

You sure you do? – immediate and looking for reassurance

O yes mum cos ive never seen u cum, all the times ive watched u b4

Lol! Enough of the game now – immediate and wanting to chat normally for a while, the equivalent of a post-sex hug

Yeh I guess its a game aint it but u seemed well into it

Believe me, I was! – immediate and honest

Were u thinking of ur boys cock fucking ur cunt 4 real

I was – immediate and even more honest

And his juices spurting inside u his cum in that hot cunt

Lol! Yes and don't get me started again – immediate and shivering with the sensations

O go on and rub that cunt for your baby boy mum n pinch ur nips

Well... – immediate and now thinking about round two. I dropped the underwear

R u still close cos some women stay that way

You've done your homework well because I am – immediate

Do u want to cum again with me mum

With my own boy? Don't you think I've had enough? – immediate, beginning to toy with my still buzzing clit

Can u imagine him walking in now n sucking in those big tits

Mmmm yes – immediate, naturally reactionary

Maybe his hand going to that hot wet pussy

I maybe couldn't stop him – immediate, spreading my legs wider

His cock hard in his hand

Bare to me as I am to him? – immediate, already eager to please

U know where he wants to put it don't you

In my hot, wet, cunt? – immediate, breathing hard already

O yes he will want to make u cum again

He's doing a great job again already and please believe me that was a first – immediate and wanting to be believed

Good and like I said I do believe

Because you've watched your own mum before? – immediate and playing along

O yeh seen her tits and cunt b4

While she's fondling her tits like this or fingering her cunt like this? – immediate, playtime round 2 was underway fast

Ure so wet already right

Yes, so hot and wet – immediate and honest

Imagining him naked in front of u

Yes please, cock in hand, ready to suck my tits – immediate and still honest

Suck then fuck

Fuck my wet cunt, yes – immediate and out of control again

Do u want it to happen 4 real, mum

Feel like it right now¬ - immediate, getting very wet very fast

Perhaps hes watching would u like that

Fuck it yes – immediate, source unknown

Yes so u want ur baby boy to come in and suck ur tits

Yes! – immediate, pulling on my nipples, control a thing of the past – this was hot fantasy

U want ur Jasons cock in ur hand don't u

Yes, yes I do – immediate, and it really was just fucking fantasy... right?

He will want to fuck u do u want that

Yes – immediate and of the moment, true

U want him to cum in ur hot wet cunt

Fuck it yes – immediate and desperately fantastically true

Ur Jasons cock in u as he sucks ur tits yeah

Yes, yes, yes – immediate, see above

4 real u want it want 2 cum 4 him n let him cum in u

Yes!! – immediate

Last chance to say no want him yes or no

Yes!! – immediate

Want his cock in ur cunt

Yes!! – immediate

U want him to fuck u

I do I want that!! – immediate

K look behind and to ur left

I did. "Oh, my god!"

"Hi, mum," Jason, naked, stood in the doorway, putting down his tablet

"How long... Fuck, was that you who... Your clothes..." I realised my fingers were still at my pussy and my tits, but somehow I couldn't stop.

"I'm so glad you meant it so much. Mum!" He took a step towards me.

"I... didn't!" It even sounded pathetic to my own ears and besides, I was still playing, still naked in front of my baby boy.

"So why not stop me when I do this?" My Jason bent down and took my left nipple into his mouth, sucking in a way that was far beyond perfect.

"I don't... can't... too far..."

"Too close to another climax?" Jason lifted his head and looked into my eyes.

I loved my baby boy so much... but never in that way... until then, "Yes!"

"You know what I want, right?"

I glanced down, "That hard cock in my pussy?"

"Your cunt, mum, yes?"

I nodded, unable to throw up the natural defences, "Yes, okay, yes! My cunt!"

"May I fuck you, mum?"

There was something about the tense formality of my son's words that chased away every thought but pleasure, "I demand it! Your punishment for misleading me, spying on me! Making me cum!"

He moved between my spread thighs, "Can I hold you as we fuck, mum?"

It was then that I realised there was no more fantasy, no thoughts hidden from the world and myself. My baby boy, my Jason, was a young man now, and a young man who had learned the art of timing to perfection. And a young man with a thick, and very hard, cock. "Do what you like," I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice, "Just... just come here and fuck me, okay?"

He didn't quite jump on me, but he moved fast. He closed the gap between us in a second, and in another second or two I could feel the head of that smooth cock pressing against my slit, against my very womanhood. I didn't pretend shock or ignorance, didn't resist at all – I just pulled at his back, my hands dropping to his bare butt where I pulled again, leaving no doubt in his mind – or my own.

Jason muttered something as he pushed, something like 'I love you, mum' and then I could feel myself parting as his cock entered me. There was just a moment of resistance – the natural resistance of my vaginal muscles – and inch by inch I could feel the smooth hardness and warmth of my boy's cock as he entered me fully and completely.

My baby boy's mouth sought and found my exposed nipples and he sucked and bit eagerly as I directed him in whispered, urgent tones. His movements were full of a desperate grace as his hips began to piston between my thighs, my legs rising up and around his neck. My hips bucked to meet every thrust as we fucked, hard and with an urgency that made the taboo deed a necessity rather than a dip into a dark morass of secret thoughts.

We kept up a constant babble of near-unintelligible words as our movements became more and more frantic and I realised that the unthinkable was going to happen – that I was going to climax right there and then on my baby boy's hard cock. The knowledge, as sudden and unexpected as the very act of our coupling, brought with it another desire, almost a need, and I tightened my limbs around my son's heaving body.

"Jason," I was gasping but this was louder than the earlier mumbles, "Baby boy, I need to cum again." He made to move away but my grip became vice-like. "No, Jason, I mean here as we are now. My pussy – my cunt – around your cock. And I want you to cum just like that too."

His head jerked up from where he'd been pulling deliciously at a nipple, "You mean...?"

"You fuck me, you fill me." I gasped at his suddenly harder thrusts, but then laughed at his astonished look. "Yes my baby boy, my Jason, I want your cum in me. If you want–"

"Fuck yes!" he interrupted with something close to a shout, "Oh fuck, mum, yes I want that! I want to fill that gorgeous pussy... in fact I'm going to any second... can't hold on much more..."

Something inside me was let loose and I started to nod like a manic cartoon dog – or like the dog I really was becoming, "Don't wait, baby, fill your mum's cunt because the second you start to I'm going to be cumming myself. You got that?"

"Yes! Oh fuck, yes!"

His movements started to lose all synchronicity in the blink of an eye, but he rammed harder and harder, and from somewhere deep in his throat he began to grunt. My own voice started to rise in sympathy with the noises emanating from my son and deep within my belly a ferocious climax began to lose its chains.

I was prepared for it, ready to feel my son's cum spurting inside of me. And yet when he yelled 'Oh fuck, mum – I'm cumming' and the first splurges washed into my very core, I lost control completely and absolutely. Climaxes for me were normally things that built – sometimes quickly, sometimes and normally much more slowly. But when Jason started to fill me with his juices – his cum – my own reaction was immediate and full.

I howled, holding tightly to my son as he continued to pump me, somehow managing to tell him it was okay – that it was 'fucking fantastic', I believe – and I let the wave after wave of tsunami-like climax wash through me. It poured through every fibre of my being, my eyes wide in shock and wonder, my belly twitching and writhing in the grasp of a truly major orgasmic delight.

Each time the sensation dimmed just a little, it returned with force anew and I was able to bask in the glory of another high-level climax. I sensed rather than truly knew that my son was spent, that he had emptied all of his juices into my depths, but I still couldn't stall the waves crashing through me.

How long they lasted, I have no real idea – long enough for me to realise later that my throat was sore from my howling – but to say it was all a sufficiency is to do that word a grave disservice. Mingled in with it all was a frankly quite surprising sense of 'so what' whenever I thought about just who I had been cumming quite so hard with – and that has lasted to this day.

In the minutes after the event, Jason had said something about whether we'd ever mention the act again and I remember laughing.

"I'm sure we will speak of it. Maybe when we're next fucking."

The double-take he gave was worthy of an ancient comedy film, "When we're next..."

"Fucking. Yes, that's what I meant." And I did mean it. I could already feel a part of me thinking, clearly and comfortably: I liked that – a lot. And yes, part of that was because it was so wrong for so many people, But this was a young, fit and – even though I was saying it myself – sexy guy. Besides, who could really tell if something was right, wrong, worth repeating, or worthy of screaming and sprinting away from if you only had a few minutes experience of it?

Jason was still laying on top of me and I lifted his head to look into his eyes – eyes that were somehow different from the way I'd seen them earlier that evening, "That's if you think you want to."

He nodded after pausing long enough to think before replying – or at least, lone enough to make me think he was actually thinking – then said, softly, "I'm already sure... mum... and is it right to still call you– "

"I'm your mum and always will be. There's no point changing to use my real name, is there?"

He shrugged, "I guess not. But I really will want to have... more sex with you."

"That's settled then," I hugged him, "But I just want you to know one thing: I never had the faintest idea that this could happen, or that I would want it to happen – not even until more than halfway through that chat we had online earlier."

He gave a soft snort, "I never thought anything like this could happen, but I've kinda fancied you in a way, I guess, for a few years now. I mean you've always looked hot and loads of my friends have fancied you ever since we knew what women were all about."

I leaned up, "If you ever mention what we've done or what we're going to do to anyone outside of us two I swear I will castrate you and wear your sad balls as earrings, okay?"

"I won't tell a single person, I swear!"

I lay back, nodding, "And not even when you get to be an ancient old guy dribbling into his dinner."

"I promise."

"And lastly – for now, at least – this thing, whatever it is..." I paused as I let my inner voices and thoughts free. I was hearing this for the first time myself, after all, "This thing is not some boy-girl relationship, okay? We might be lovers but we're no relational partnership in any sense other than purely physical."

"I think I get it."

"Do get it. I want you to go out and meet girls. Date them, fuck them – do all the normal things a young man would. And when you do, don't give a thought to me. Except maybe the occasional fuck, okay?" I didn't know where all this was coming from but I knew beyond any doubt it was all true.

Jason thought for a few moments, "That seems like it's a bit unfair, though."

I laughed, softly, "I'm a couple of decades older than you, baby boy. And whatever we may do, you're still my son and still have your whole life ahead of you. Right now, though... right now, we can have all the fun we want. Together."

"If you're sure then yeah, I'd love it that way."

"One thing, though," I hugged him tightly, "You really need to learn how to use some punctuation in your damned text messages!"

He laughed against my neck, "Well if that's what it takes to get you naked again..."

I pushed him off me and onto his back. Straddling him in one swift move, "Yeah," I nodded, "Maybe that's what I should do. Withhold access to my body if you don't type properly."

Jason reached up and cupped my tits, "I'll agree – so long as we can start that rule tomorrow."

His hardness beneath me became more apparent and I wriggled until his smooth cock was once again positioned just perfectly, "That, my baby boy, is a deal!" I pressed down and felt him entering me once more. Felt my son begin to fuck me again.

It was the second time, but by no means the last.

By no means at all...

The End