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ll never forget the day it all began. It was a Saturday and I was catching up on my housework as I'd worked all week long. My son, Alexei was over at his friend, Vasily's house playing computer games or something.

Alexei and I lived alone in our little flat. Alexei's good-for-nothing father had left us a long time ago. My poor Alexei had been a frail, sickly c***d and it had been a struggle at times living on the salary I brought home from my job as a secretary for a small travel company, but we'd managed.

Alexei and I, we spend a lot of time together. I guess that is only natural what with his father leaving us, his frailty and all. I call him my little Pasha sometimes because his is my sun. Alexei's illnesses left him skinny and frail for a boy of eighteen. I knew that the c***dren at school sometimes teased him about it. He is a shy boy and only has a couple of friends and no girlfriend. He spends an awful lot of time at the computer and I guess that he is what you Americans might call a nerd. Some nights I make us a big bowl of popcorn we sit of the sofa close to each other and watch a film on the TV. He seems to love it when I hug him, unlike most of the boys his age. I really never thought much of it, though. I was just happy that he liked spending time with me.

I was just about to try and tackle the biggest mess in the house. Alexei's room. Like I said, Alexei was eighteen and wouldn't be nineteen until July. He was the prototypical teenage boy whose idea of a clean room was a room that he could still wade through the clothes and other discarded things to get to his bed. Any deeper than that and I made him clean it up.

Picking up his clothes, I carried them out to the hamper so I could take them to the laundromat later. With that done, I started dusting. As I was dusting his computer desk, the duster brushed against his mouse and all of a sudden his monitor screen flashed on. Not expecting his computer to come on, it startled me for a second. Glancing at the screen, I reached over to turn it off, but when I did my eyes caught a few words on the monitor. "Mother", "cock", and "pussy" to mention a few. What in the world, I asked myself, sitting down so my wobbly knees wouldn't collapse under me?

What was it? Staring at the words on the screen, I started reading. The more I read the more disgusted I became. It was a story. A story apparently about a boy and his mother. And they were committing i****t. I felt sick to my stomach. What was this trash doing on Alexei's computer, I angrily wondered?

i****t! My little Alexei was reading about i****t. i****t between a mother and her son. Did that mean? Did that mean he had those kinds of thoughts about me? I was shocked. How could he? There'd never been anything like that between us. Never! At least not from my side of the equation. But obviously I couldn't speak for Alexei.

My housecleaning now forgotten, I began searching through his computer to see if I could find anything else, any more stories or anything about i****t. I found several more stories and even read a couple of them. While at first I had been disgusted by the idea of i****t, the more I read, the less it seemed to bother me. It wasn't portrayed in the stories the way I'd pictured it being. The moms in the stories loved their sons and wouldn't do anything to hurt them. It wasn't two morons out behind a shed fucking like everyone seemed to think. These stories were stories about two loving, caring people who were in love. The fact that they were mother and son didn't seem to matter.

Now I wanted to read them all, but I didn't want Alexei catch me. Where did he find them, I wondered? A little more searching and I came up with the site where he'd copied the stories from. Literotica!

It was a strange feeling knowing that Alexei felt about me that way. I can't explain it. It felt wrong. But at the same time, it made me feel all warm and wet. Excited in a way.

Flustered, I moused back to the story that had been on the screen when I'd first touched the mouse. Apparently, he had his computer set to turn the monitor off if he didn't use it for a while. At least that's what I hoped because I didn't want him to know that I knew about his sick, little secret. Grabbing up the duster, I looked around his room. He would know that I'd been in his room because there were no clothes lying around on the floor. But that wasn't anything unusual as I cleaned his room for him every weekend.

My knees were still wobbly and I even felt a little light-headed as I went scurrying back down to my room and my computer. Flicking my computer on, I immediately went to literotica and moused to the i****t section.

I felt all weird and funny inside as I read another couple of stories. The stories all seemed to have a similar story line in which the mother would discover that her son had secret feelings for her. When she discovered it, she found that she had feelings for him, too. Then, after struggling with their secret, they would make love and live happily ever after. Or at least that was the way most of the ended.

If only it could be that easy I told myself. What? What had I just said? If only IT could be that easy? It? What was it? It was having an affair with my son! Oh, God, what was I doing? How could I think such a thing? My little boy? Why he was only eighteen. How much could a frail, sickly n fragile boy like Alexei know about sex? Why I'd never even seen him talk to a girl, much less anything else. My head was spinning. I was having trouble breathing. My heart was doing leap frogs down inside my chest. Well, he had read the stories, hadn't he? And some of them were extremely explicit.

Alexei and I in bed? I couldn't even picture it. How big was he? Did he Jack off thinking about me? I was going crazy. I didn't know how I would ever be able to face him again.

I need something to calm my nerves, I told myself. A couple of shots of vodka later, I felt better. Calmer. More in control of my thoughts again.

Just then I heard the front door knob rattle. It was Alexei, my fevered brain shouted. Keep calm. Just keep calm, I told myself. Nothing is going to happen. Just pretend that you don't know and everything will be fine.

Setting my empty glass back down on the table, I looked over at the front door. It came swinging open and Alexei came strolling in.

"Hi, Mom," I heard him say as he walked around the table on his way to the refrigerator.

"Uh, hi," I muttered, feeling my cheeks burst into flames. I was blushing. He would know, but I couldn't stop it.

"What'cha doing?" he asked me as he opened the fridge and pulled out the bottle of milk we kept there.

I didn't know what to do, what to say.

"Uh, nothing, uh, what about you?" I inanely asked, watching him pour himself a big glass of milk.

"Nothin'—" he grinned, lifting the glass up to his lips and taking a long gulp of milk.

It was such a weird feeling. I almost felt naked. Naked and exposed and he could see everything I had. Then I saw his eyes brush across my breasts. He was peeping at my breasts. I could see that he had a milk ring on his upper lip. I don't know why, but there was something so sensual about that.

Everything had changed between us. Before he had just been my little boy, my little Pasha. Now, in the span of a few moments he had grown into a man. A man who wanted to have sex with me. My mouth was so dry I couldn't talk.

"You okay, Mom?" I heard him ask as he set his glass down on the table and sat down across from me.

"Uh, yes, uh, yes, I'm fine," I lied, looking away from him, unable to look him in the eye. "Why?"

"You look funny. Your cheeks are red. You have a fever or something?" he asked me as out of the corner of my eye, I saw his eyes dart down to my big breasts again. He's peeping again. Stop it. Don't do that, I silently screamed at him. But he was right. Yes, I did have a fever but not in my head or on my cheeks. My fever was down between my legs. Not only was my pussy on fire, I could feel my juices oozing out of it.

"No, uh, I just had a drink . . . maybe it was the alcohol," I muttered. "You know how alcohol affects me . . ."

"Yeah," he grinned.

He knew that I acted weird when I drank. Maybe that's what he wanted me to do. Drink and get drunk and do something stupid.

Emboldened by the alcohol, I turned back to him and brazenly thrust out my chest, making my big tits strain against my satin blouse. I was on the verge of telling him that I knew. I knew that he wanted to fuck me. "You want me to get drunk?" I asked him.

"Uh, no, I, I just thought maybe you were catching a cold or something," he mumbled as I saw a faint blush spread out across his cheeks as the light reflected off the thick lenses of his glasses. Blushing seemed to be contagious, I told myself, seeing that I had embarrassed him. Feeling a little more confident, I pushed away from the table, stood up and turned around. I could feel his weak, steel-gray eyes boring holes into my ass as I stepped over to the counter, swishing it from side to side with a little more animation than necessary.

Look at you, I berated myself. You're flirting with him. You're teasing him. You're nothing but a fucking slut. He's your son for Christ's sake. Stop it!

"I'm going to make me a sandwich for lunch. You want me to make you one, too?" I asked him, stopping, turning back to face him.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he said as I saw his eyes flit across my breasts again.

As I went about making the sandwiches, I could feel his eyes poring over my body, studying me. It was so evident, it almost felt like he was groping me with his hands. Feeling me up.

"So Mom, why were you drinking so early? It's not even one o'clock," he asked me.

"I don't know," I lied to him, not wanting him to know it was because of him. Him and his i****t stories. "I just wanted a drink."

It was unnerving to know how seeing those stories on his computer had changed things between us. I'd caught him looking at me before, but I hadn't thought anything of it. After all, I did have large breasts and teenage boys seemed enamored by big tits. But now, even when I wasn't looking at him I could feel his eyes on me, touching me, exploring my every curve. On my ass, my tits, down between my legs. It was almost like he was feeling me up with his eyes. It made weird. It made me feel hot and funny inside. A part of me felt violated and sickened by it all, but another part of me wanted it. Wanted to feel and aroused by it. It was all so confusing.

"Here's your sandwich," I told him as I slid his plate in front of him.

"Thanks, Mom, you're the coolest," he grinned as I sat down across from him.

Maybe I could feel him out and get him to admit how he felt toward me, I told myself. Get the thing out in the open so we could do something about IT. Do what about IT? He wanted to fuck me. So nothing good could come of that. But I had to do something.

"So, any new girlfriends?" I asked him.

"Uh, naw, the girls at school are all so silly running around giggling and stuff," he said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"I was about your age when I first started dating," I told him.

"Really? That young?" he grinned.

"Better watch it there, Mister. It's not nice to talk about your mom like she an old broad," I warned him.

"Naw, Mom, I didn't mean it like that," he apologized. "I don't think you look old. You're only thirty-six. That's not old, Mom," he went on. Then out of the blue, he said something that nearly floored me. "You have the prettiest green eyes, Mom—" he almost blurted out.

"What? What brought that on," I asked him, feeling pleased on the one hand, but self-conscious on the other hand.

"I just think you're pretty, Mom and I wanted to tell you," he smiled, his gray eyes twinkling behind his thick glasses as they flitted down to my breasts for the umpteenth time. "You don't have anyone to tell you how pretty you are, so I thought I should."

This was a new side of Alexei I had never seen before. I didn't know what to say. Was he flirting with me? If he wasn't it sure sounded like he was.

I couldn't stop the blush that blossomed onto my cheeks.

Then he reached across the table and gently took hold of my hand.

"Mom, I love you . . . so much," he whispered, giving my hand a gentle, intimate, squeeze.

Was the gesture a gesture of his platonic love for me as his mother, or was it a confession of the deeper, darker love I knew he felt for me? Whatever, it made a warning buzzer go off inside my head.

I felt like he'd just punched me in the belly. I was speechless. I didn't know what to do, what to say!

"Uh, I, I love you, too, Al, Alexei—" I stammered, squeezing his hand back, hoping he would pull his hand back across the table and put an end to this excruciatingly-awkward moment.

But he didn't and we sat there for the longest time, staring into each other's eyes holding hands like two love-struck lovers until at last I had to end it.

Breaking his grasp on my hand, I pulled my hand away and raised it up to the collar of my blouse. Self-consciously plucking at it, I pushed back from the table and stood up. As I did, I felt my big tits heave, heavily tugging at my chest as Alexei's eyes darted down to them.

"I, uh, I've got laundry to do—" I mumbled, brushing my hands across my breasts to hide them as I stepped around the table and headed over to the hamper. Once again, I could feel his eyes boring into my jiggling butt as I hurriedly transferred the clothes from the hamper to the laundry basket.

"I'll be back in a little while," I told him, picking up my purse and heading for the front door.

I was stunned. That had been so close.

My heart was fluttering. I could barely breathe. Stepping out through the door, I stopped for a moment to recompose myself. Leaning back against the door, I tried to catch my breath. What had just happened? I think he'd been that close to telling me how he really felt. This was crazy. I felt like I was the eighteen year old and Alexei was the adult. He was a man and I was a little girl.

I guess it was just about then that I realized that I wanted him. I wanted him to touch me. Touch me down there. I wanted him to kiss me. Not a little boy kiss, but a grown up kiss. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to see him. See his cock and touch it. Feel it inside me. Moving inside me, in and out. Oh, God, I was losing it. I was going crazy!

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur for me. But it was finally ten o'clock and time for Alexei to go to bed. I can't remember when it had begun, but we had a little bedtime ritual that we did. I would go into his bedroom and sit down on the edge of his bed. We would talk for a little while before I would tuck him in and give him a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

I usually looked forward to our little quiet time together, but tonight I was dreading it. But if I didn't do it, he would think it suspicious. We hadn't missed a night that I could remember.

Stopping outside his door, I took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. Then, just before I touched it, I stopped. Looking down at my breasts, I reached up and slowly unbuttoned the top two buttons. Spreading the collar open a little, I paused for a second, then quickly unbuttoned the third button and spread it open a little more. I was crazy, I told myself. What was I doing? It wasn't right to tease him like this. Cupping my breasts, I gave them a little push up to make them seem even bigger than they were. I couldn't stop myself as I reached down and slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open.

"Mom—" I heard him say as I stepped into his room. As I did I saw his eyes drop down to my unbuttoned blouse, then back up to my face, then back down again as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

I didn't say a word as I stepped across the room and eased down on the edge of his bed.

"So what do you want to talk about tonight?" I asked him, sitting with my legs bent at the knees, my calves brushing against the side of the bed with my hands in my lap.

"You . . ." he whispered as I saw him pull his hand out from under the covers and lay it on the bed beside my thigh.

"Me? What about me?" I asked him, feeling my heart rate quicken. Was this it? Was he going to tell me how he felt? My heart was pounding so hard it felt there was a bass drum in my chest. My swollen nipples were suddenly achingly-sensitive as they rubbed against my brassiere. And my pussy was on fire, throbbing, aching and pumping out juice like a broken water main.

"Why did you blush when I told you that you were pretty this afternoon, Mom?" he asked me.

Oh, God, I groaned as I felt the old, familiar flush of heat burn out across my cheeks again. I was blushing again.

"Uh, I, I—" I started to say, but was interrupted by him.

"See, there, you're blushing again," he grinned. Then I felt his fingers brush against my thigh, just below the hem of my skirt.

Shocked, I couldn't speak as I looked down at his fingers. The tips of his fingers felt like coals searing the skin of my thigh as he touched me. Then I felt them move, slowly crawling up my thigh, up, up, up toward my flaming pussy.

He was going to touch me. Touch me there! I wanted him to. I wanted him to touch me there. Touch me and feel how wet I was. Wet for him—

But I couldn't. He was my son! I couldn't let Alexei touch me there. I don't know how but from somewhere I found the strength to reach down and push his hand away from my thigh.

"Uh, I, uh, I'm sleepy . . ." I murmured, ignoring his attempt to touch me.

"Don't go, Mom, I . . ." he started to say, but his voice trailed off into silence as I pushed up off the bed and stood up.

"I'm really tired, Alexei," I smiled down at him.

Then I leaned down over his bed and took hold of the sheets. As I started to pull them up under his chin, I paused, pretending to fuss with the sheet for a few seconds to give him time to gawk at my tits that were hanging down, cupped in my frilly, red brassiere and plainly visible through the opening of my blouse. At last, I tugged the sheets up under his chin and tucked them in. Leaning lower, I started to give him a kiss on the forehead. But at the last second, I pretended to lose my balance. Throwing out my hand to catch myself, I made sure it landed directly on the bulge jutting up against the sheets just below his belly.

"Oops," I softly murmured, pushing down on Alexei's rock-hard cock to balance myself. He had a hard on. My baby had an erection. Keeping my hand on his cock, I leaned down and brushed my lips across his forehead, then stood back up pulling my hand off his cock.

I felt like I was going to faint. My head was spinning, my heart pounding, I had to go.

"Night-night—" I whispered, turning and stepping across the room to his door. Stepping through the doorway, I turned and looked back at Alexei. His eyes were bigger than saucers as he lay gawking at me like he'd just seen a ghost or something. Then I quickly blew him a kiss and slowly, quietly pulled his door closed.


Oh, God, what did you just do? My reeling brain was screaming at me. You touched him. You touched Alexei. You touched your little boy's penis. His cock. And he had a hard on! He was hard, and it was all because of you, you fucking slut.

I'd never felt so ashamed. I'd touched my son's penis. I had gone where no mother had the right to go. Done something no mother had a right to do. But now what, I asked myself? Barely able to walk, I somehow staggered over to my bedroom and rushed inside, my knees threatening to collapse at any moment.

Flinging my clothes everywhere as I undressed, I dove into bed and pulled the covers up under my chin to hide myself. I'd done the unthinkable. My whole body was on fire, but the fire was the hottest down in the fiery core between my legs. I had to do something to quiet the raging inferno. Throwing the covers back, I blindly groped for the handle of the drawer in my nightstand. Finding it, I jerked it open and thrust my hand inside it. Feeling the cool smooth cylinder of plastic, I pulled it out and flicked it on. Throwing my legs apart, I shoved the buzzing toy down to my pussy. Finding the tingling nub of my aching clit, I shoved the vibrator against it. As I did, a picture of Alexei standing by my bed, naked, holding his stiff, hard cock in his hand jacking it up and down as he jacked off sprang into my fevered mind.

My clit was so sensitive, it felt like I had loosed a swarm of bees on it as the vibrator hummed and buzzed. It was so inflamed, I felt myself rushing headlong toward a cataclysmic orgasm. My whole body was tensing, my muscles tightening, my pussy throbbing and spewing out cunt juice. It was there. Only moments away. I could feel it. I wanted it! I needed it as I watched Alexei's fisted hand work up and down his stiff, hard penis.

All at once, my loins exploded into a gigantic fireball of pleasure so deep, so intense it took my breath away. It was the most concentrated rush of pleasure I'd ever felt.

My whole body was melting, gushing, pouring back down into the gaping hole between my legs where my pussy had once been. Was I dying, I fearfully wondered? No, no, I couldn't be. Not now, I frantically thought. I couldn't leave my poor Alexei all alone.

Slowly my senses returned as my breathing slowed and my heart ceased to pound. Tiredly reaching over to the buzzing toy with my other hand, I twisted it off and let it drop back down into the drawer. Shoving the drawer closed, I lay wondering what would happen next.

. . .

Waking the next morning, I was almost afraid to leave my room. Who knew what dangers lurked outside? It was Sunday and tomorrow was Victory Day, so I had that day off, too. Normally, I would have been overjoyed to have three days off, but what had transpired last night between Alexei and I had me on edge and I was afraid of what might happen.

I decided that I would lie to him so that I could get out of the house and out of harm's way. I was going to tell him that my friend, Nika had invited me to spend the day with her.

Getting dressed, I went out and started breakfast for Alexei. I had decided against church as I was afraid that I might be struck dead for venturing into a house of God after what I had done and thought last night. Making Alexei a bowl of Kasha, I topped with a big scoop of sour cream. He was, after all a growing boy and needed his nourishment. Especially as frail and delicate as he was.

Just as I sat the bowl of porridge on the table, Alexei came walking out of his room, yawning and stretching. I could see the obvious lump sticking out against the front of his pajamas as he plodded over to the table on his bare feet.

"Uh, where are you going?" he asked me as sat down in front of the bowl of Kasha.

"Nika has invited me to her place for the day," I lied, planning on spending the day at the cinema. "I probably won't be home until seven or eight tonight," I explained as I stood watching him while I sipped on my coffee. "There's stuff for sandwiches in the fridge."

I saw the look of disappointment on his face as he frowned and shoved his spoon down into the bowl of Kasha.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, refilling my cup and sitting down across the table from him.

"I thought that maybe we could go to the park and just hang out together," he complained. "We don't ever get to spend any time together anymore."

"Tomorrow's Victory Day, maybe we can go to a parade or something," I told him. It would be safe if we were surrounded by people, wouldn't it? At least I would feel safe.

"Okay," he smiled. "That would be fun."

"Good, then. I'll make us a picnic basket and we can go to the park and feed the ducks and then watch a parade," I smiled, reaching across the table and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. As I did, I couldn't help but see his eyes drop down and brush across my breasts again. When they did, I got that warm, itchy feeling down between my legs and I knew that what I was doing was definitely the right idea. If the two of us spent the day in the apartment alone, I didn't know what would happen.

Pushing up onto my high heels, I walked over to the sink and set my empty coffee cup down in it. Turning back around, I saw his eyes dart away from my butt as another faint blush colored the points of his cheeks.

"Well, I best be off," I told him, picking up my purse and stepping over to the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't want you doing," I told him as I paused at the door. "Maybe you might find a good story on the internet to read to pass the time." I told him and saw his blush brighten.

"Uh, okay. Have fun, Mom," he sheepishly said, digging his spoon back down into the bowl and lifting another big spoonful of Kasha up to his mouth.

Smiling to myself at my clever subterfuge, I started off down the street toward the cinema.

It was seven-thirty when the last movie ended and I headed back to the apartment. Riding along on the subway, I felt that nervous, tickly feeling down in the pit of my stomach. What was going to happen? I didn't want anything to happen that would hurt my little Alexei. But I wanted something to happen. Just what, I didn't know. I felt almost like a Humpty Dumpty as I tottered on the edge, trying to stay on the wall and not fall. I knew that if I did fall and let myself be taken over by my urges, they could probably never put me together again.

It was just starting to drizzle as I tugged my coat up around my neck and hurried down the street toward our flat. It was about then that I realized I was hungry. Dashing into the little café just down the street from our flat, I bought a pirozhki with boiled meat mixed with sautéed onions. I could cut it in half and it would be supper for Alexei and me.

Climbing up the steps, I quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside. Pulling my coat off, I shook off the water. The aromas of supper hung in the air as I hurried down the hallway. Someone had cooked fish, I told myself. And another cabbage. All the aromas were mixing together to make a pleasant, homey smell that made me even hungrier.

Slipping the key in the lock, I turned it and pushed the door open. I didn't see Alexei, but I heard him call out from his room.

"That you, Mom?"

"No, Pasha, it is I, a thief and I've come to steal all you have," I called back, almost giddy with nervousness.

"You won't get much," Alexei laughed as he stepped out of his room.

"Are you hungry?" I asked him.

"Starving—" he told me, stepping up and giving me a peck on the cheek. As he did, I felt his hand brush against my butt. I didn't know if it was an accident or if he'd done it on purpose, but whichever, it sent chills racing up and down my spine.

"Uh, I bought us a pirozhki for supper," I smiled, setting the pie on the table.

"Cool," he grinned.

"Why don't you cut it in two and I'll be right back out," I mumbled, stepping around him and over to my room.

Get hold of yourself, woman, I told myself as I closed the door behind me and hung my damp coat on its peg beside the door. Stepping over to my vanity tucked away in the corner of my little bedroom, I sat down and looked at myself in the mirror. I was pleased with the way I looked. At thirty-four, I kept myself fit. I could see my green eyes twinkling in the light of the lamp sitting on my nightstand. Reaching down, I picked up my silver brush and ran it through my streaked hair that hung down to my shoulders. Looking down at my breasts, I could see that they were thrusting out against my satin blouse.

"Do you wish to be free, my girls?" I laughed. "Perhaps tonight, I will not keep you bottled up in your brassiere. What do you think? Oh, you think that would be an excellent idea? Well, fine, it will be so," I grinned, putting the brush down. Then reaching up to my collar, I slowly, one button at a time, I unbuttoned my blouse and peeled it back over my shoulders. Lying it down on the bench beside my hip, I reached around behind me and unsnapped my frilly, red brassiere. Then I slowly pushed each shoulder strap down off my shoulders and pulled the bra off.

As I pulled my bra off, I could feel my heavy breasts tugging at my chest. Laying the brassiere on the vanity, I watched my reflection as I cupped my tits and pinched the stiff, swollen nipples sticking out of them. As I did, I felt a sizzle of excitement spark through my brain. Suddenly, I wondered what it would feel like for Alexei to hold them. Would he like them? Would he think they were too big? The way he kept peeping at them all of the time, I didn't think that would be a problem.

Oh, stop it, I berated myself. You can't let him do that. He's your son. Your little boy. Your little Pasha. Pulling my blouse back over my shoulders, I started buttoning it back up. Feeling mischievous, just as I had done last night, I left the top three buttons unbuttoned.

There, that ought to get his attention, I told myself as I stood up. Turning, I started for the door, but stopped. I felt schizophrenic! I wanted to be Alexei's mother. His good, loving, caring mother. But another part of me wanted to tease him. Give him a nibble, but never let him have the whole thing. I knew that I was going crazy. It was like I was two different women locked up in one body. One a mother and the other a slut!

Then I reached down and tugged my skirt up around my waist. Shoving my thumbs down under the stretchy waistband of my little, black panties, I pushed them down over the curves of my hips and let them go sliding down my legs. Bending down, I swept them up off the floor. I could feel their dampness on my fingers as I lifted them up to my nose and smelled. How could he not smell that, I asked myself? Then I tossed them down on the vanity where they landed with a soft, wet splat.

Tugging my skirt back down over my hips, I stepped over to the door, fluffed my hair, took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

"What took you so long, Mom?" I heard Alexei ask me as he sat at the table looking at me. I saw that almost all of his half of the pirozhki was already gone. "Sorry, Mom, I couldn't wait. I was hungry."

"That's okay, Pasha, Darling," I smiled, walking over to the counter where I kept a bottle of vodka. Reaching into the cabinet, I took down two glasses, picked up the bottle and went over to the table where Alexei sat ogling my breasts as they freely bobbled and jiggled down inside my blouse.

Sitting down across from him, I set the two glasses down on the table and twisted top off the vodka. Holding the vodka over one of the glasses, I tipped it up and poured about one finger into the glass. Then I brought it over to the other glass and poured about three fingers into it.

Setting the vodka bottle down on the table, I slowly pushed the glass with only one finger of vodka in it across to Alexei.

"You mean I can have a drink?" he grinned, reaching for the glass.

"Just one," I told him, picking up my glass. "To us," I told him, reaching over and tapping my glass against his, the lifting it up, tilting my head back and gulping down my drink in one, quick gulp. I don't know what had come over me. Letting Alexei drink vodka? And right in front of me? But just a little drink, I told myself. It wasn't like I was letting him get drunk or anything.

Watching him, I saw him tentatively lift the glass up to his soft, full lips. Then I saw his tongue sneak out and take a tiny taste of it.

"It tastes funny," he mumbled. I could feel the warmth of my drink spreading out from my tummy, making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"Drink it—" I told him, picking up the bottle and pouring myself another three fingers.

Alexei seemed scared to drink his vodka as he opened his mouth and another tiny sip.

"I thought you were a big boy now," I teased him, picking up my glass and gulping down my second drink to taunt him. "See, Mommy can do it," I softly laughed, setting my empty glass on the table and picking up my half of the pirozhki.

"Will it burn?" he asked me as I took a bite out of my pie.

"A little . . . probably," I teased back at him, chewing on my pie and watching him. "Maybe it will put hair on your chest," I giggled, taking another bite.

Egotism finally won out over prudence as I watched him tilt his head back and toss his drink down.

"Oh, God—" I heard him gasp as he coughed and sputtered trying to catch his breath. "It burned . . . a lot—" he finally choked out as his breathing was slowly returning to normal.

I had a happy, little buzz on and it gave everything a warm glow as I sat chewing my pie and watching my son drink what had apparently been his first drink.

"Can you feel it?" I grinned, taking the last bite of my pirozhki and pushing my plate away from me.

"Yeah, a little," he grinned back at me as his eyes dropped back down to my jiggling, unrestrained breasts. My aching nipples were so hard and swollen, I was almost afraid that they were going to poke out through my blouse. And I knew that he couldn't help but see them.

Turning slightly, I wriggled my shoulders just to show Alexei that I wasn't wearing a brassiere. I wanted him to know that my tits were naked down under my blouse. I don't know why I wanted him to know that, but I did. And what would he do if he knew that his Mommy wasn't wearing any panties either, I tipsily wondered?

Looking down at my wristwatch, I saw that it was almost ten o'clock.

"It looks like it's almost your bedtime, young man," I told him.

"Aw, Mom, do I have to?" he complained with a frown on his face.

"Yes, Pasha, you have to. So go get your jammies on and I'll be in, in a few to tuck you in," I told him, feeling a tickle of nervous energy down inside my pussy. He'd tried to touch me last night. Would he try again? Well, if he did, I might let him get a little farther tonight, I tipsily thought. But I would stop him before anything happened.

Listening to the angry clomp of his shoes on the floor as he went moping off into his bedroom, I saw that he didn't close his door. Had he forgotten that I could see him? Had, perhaps the alcohol made him forgetful, I wondered? As I sat watching through the crack between the door and the frame as he began to undress.

At eighteen, he was still frail and skinny for his age, but I could see that his back and shoulders were beginning to fill out a little as he took his shirt off and hung it on the back of his chair. He was standing with his back to the door and couldn't see that I was watching him. Then I saw him unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

I felt another shiver of perverse excitement as he pushed his pants down his skinny legs and stepped out of them. Now he was standing beside his bed wearing only a pair of white jockey shorts that clung to his tight, little ass like a second skin. Another sizzle of excitement sparked through my achingly-empty pussy as I saw him hook his thumbs under the waist band of his shorts and slowly push them down over his hips. I couldn't take my eyes off his naked, little ass as he stepped out of his shorts and reached for his pajamas which were lying on the bed. I even thought I got a glimpse of the head of his limp cock as it dangled down between his legs jiggling and wiggling around while he put his pjs on.

My poor, little, naked pussy was on fire as I watched Alexei crawl onto his bed and wriggle down under the covers. My heart was racing as I reached over to the vodka. One more little drink before I went in, I told myself. Just to quiet my nerves you know.

Tossing the drink down, I set my glass down and pushed up onto my high heels. I felt a little wobbly when I stepped over to where Alexei couldn't see me. Reaching up, I cupped my breasts through my white, satin blouse, lifting them and trying to get them to look bigger. Then a couple of quick fluffs of my hair and I went toddling across the room to his door.

Stopping at his door, I peeked in and smiled.

"Can I come in?" I asked him as I saw that he was looking back at me. And this time, I could help but notice that the lump under his covers, down below his waist was considerably larger than the lump a limp penis would make. He already had a hard on!

"I've been waiting, Mom," he grinned.

Rolling my hips just enough to seem provocative, I slowly stepped across to his bed. Leaning down, balancing myself on my hands to sit down, I gave him an unrestricted view of my dangling, bobbling breasts for a couple of seconds as I eased my butt down on the edge of the bed.

"So what did you do today, Alexei?" I asked him as I sat facing him, my legs bent at the knees, calves resting against his bed just as I had done last night.

"I, uh, I read some stories on the internet . . . just like you told me to, Mom," he told me as I felt his fingers brush against my knee. He's doing it. He wants to touch me, my fevered brain screamed. I pretended to ignore what he was doing as his hand slowly crept around between my knees, his fingers trailing across my skin.

"What did you do today?" I heard him ask from somewhere outside the swirling fog that was filling my brain.

"Uh, Nika and I went . . . farm . . ." I mumbled as I felt his warm, soft fingers inching off my knee and onto my inner thigh, "chickens, uh, cows, garden . . ." I mumbled on, my rattled brain incapable of linking words together to form a sentence.

The tips of his fingers felt like embers as they crawled up higher and higher. I couldn't move. I couldn't think as neither of us spoke while his fingers moved higher and higher. Then as his fingers brushed against my inner thigh on one leg, I felt his knuckles brush against my other thigh. He was only a couple of inches from his goal. Only a couple of inches from my aching, oozing pussy.

Holding my breath, I feverishly waited for the touch of his fingers on my pussy. He was going to do it. I wouldn't stop him. I couldn't stop him. My arms were paralyzed.

Then he touched me! As his fingers brushed against my juice-covered pussy lips, I flinched. When I did, so did he and I felt his probing fingers push inside my throbbing, aching cunt. Oh, God, his fingers are inside me, I deliriously thought.

Stop him, my brain screamed at me. You can't let him do that. It's wrong! Don't let him do that—

As my impotent brain tried to mount a counter-attack, I felt his fingers pushing in deeper.

"Oh, God, no, Pasha—" I was finally able to somehow gasp, reaching down, grasping hold of his wrist and pushing his hand out from between my trembling legs.

"Mom—" I heard Alexei groan in futility. Looking down, I could see that his two little fingers were glistening wetly, covered with my juice almost all the way up to the last knuckles.

"Baby, we can't," I whimpered, pushing his hand away and standing. My legs felt like wet noodles.

"But, Mom . . ." he started, but I didn't let him finish as I went rushing out of his room before he could say another word.


Staggering into my room, I slammed the door shut and stood leaning back against it as the tears came flooding down my cheeks. Why had I let him do that? He had touched me. He'd touched me . . . down there. I'd let him touch me. My son had touched my pussy! He had put his fingers inside me! I was a whore. How could I have let him do that? I wanted to dig a hole, crawl into it and pull the dirt back over me. I didn't deserve to live. I had failed miserably at being a mother. No good mother would have ever let her son touch her that way.

I didn't know what to do. My world had just ended. I had ended it by letting Alexei touch me down there. How could I ever face him again? I couldn't be his mother any more after failing him so badly.

Finally pushing off the door, I stumbled across the room to my bed. Flouncing down on it, I unbuttoned my blouse, pushed it back over my shoulders and let it fall onto the bed. Grabbing it off the bed, I angrily flung it across the room and watched it flutter to the floor where it landed as a muddled heap of satin.

Standing up, I unbuttoned my skirt and pushed it down off my hips. Letting it fall to the floor, I stepped out of it and then kicked it across the room. Not only was I disgusted with myself, I was angry. I wanted to hurt myself. Do something to punish myself for doing what I'd done. But I couldn't. Who would take care of little Alexei if I did something to hurt myself? No, I couldn't do that.

Standing by my bed, naked, except for my high heels, I had never felt so all alone. It was like I was the only woman in the world. The only woman who didn't have someone to love her. I ached inside. Stepping across my room, I stopped by the window and slowly pulled the curtains back. The dark, dreary night outside fit the mood of my heart. The drizzle gave everything a fuzzy, misty look. The streetlights were like guardian angels hovering above the streets, their heads encased in glowing halos as they cast their muted light on the glistening streets below.

It looked so dark and lonely. Just like my heart.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move. Looking over at it, I saw that it was a couple coming down the wet, glistening sidewalk. The woman was huddled up against the man who had his arm around her waist holding her against him. He was holding a big umbrella over them to protect them from the cold, damp drizzle as they toddled along, stopping every few steps to kiss. They were in love. I was so jealous of them. They had someone. I wanted someone. Someone to laugh with, someone to cry with me when I hurt. Someone to care for, someone to care for me. Someone to love and someone to love me. Someone to hold. Someone to hold me. Someone to make love to, and someone to make love to me. I was so lonely I ached all over.

Wishing I was the woman, I watched them muddle along until they reached the corner and disappeared around it.

Like a whipped dog, my tail tucked between my legs, I turned and crept back over to my bed. Easing my feet out of my heels, I crawled into bed and pulled the blankets up over me. Curling myself up into a fetal position, I began to cry. Every wracking sob shook my body as I tried to cry away my loneliness and pain.

I cried until I had no more tears to cry and then lay in my tear-stained cocoon listening to the sounds of the dark around me.

Then I heard it. It was a familiar sound. A sound that I heard several times a day, but paid no attention to it until now. It was the soft creak of my door being pushed open. But now, in the dark of the night, it was so loud it sounded like the gates of hell being thrown open to release the demons to feast on my disgusting soul.

Cringing, I didn't know what to do. Was it a thief? Was it Alexei? I couldn't see with the covers over my head. Unable to breathe, I fearfully began to stretch out from my fetal position and inch the covers down off my face.

When I could finally see, I saw a shadowy figure standing in the doorway peering into my room. By the slight frame of the figure, I could tell that it wasn't a man or a woman. It was a boy. It was Alexei! In the dark, I couldn't make out much more than it was him.

"Mom . . ." I heard him say, the tone of his voice more of a question than a statement.

"Yes . . ." I whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"Can I come in, Mommy?" I heard him softly ask.

No, you can't let him come in, my frantic brain screamed. You can't—

"No, Baby, I, I don't have any clothes on," I told him, wishing I could let him come in, but knowing that if I did, in the state I was in, we would be doomed.

"Please, Mommy—" I could hear the anguish in his voice, the pain, the need, but I couldn't let him.

"I'm sorry, Baby . . ." I whimpered. My heart was breaking for him. I wanted to hold him. To mother him and make the pain go away. But I couldn't. I was too weak. I was too weak to trust myself to do just that!

"Please, Mommy, for just a minute—" he begged.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to hold him in my arms so bad.

I broke. I couldn't turn him away. Not in this hour of his need. I could just hold him until his pain went away. Then he could go back to his room.

"For—for just a minute—" I was somehow able to whisper.

"Mommy—" I heard him choke out as he started to slowly walk toward the bed. Then he stepped into the dim light streaming in through the window I had been looking out earlier.

He was naked! He wasn't wearing his pajamas! As I lay staring at him in terrified shock, I saw that he had an erection.

Alarm bells started clanging, sirens blaring inside my head as I fearfully watched him stepping closer, and closer, and closer until he was standing by my bed looking down at me.

"Mommy—" he whispered as I watched him reach down to the covers and slowly lift them up off the bed. Then I felt the bed shudder as he eased down under them.

My pounding heart was in my throat. I couldn't breathe. There were goose bumps the size of hen eggs jumping out all over my trembling body. I couldn't move. My whole body was paralyzed. All I could do was watch as he moved closer and closer until I felt his soft, warm breath brush across my cheek just before his lips touched my skin. Then his lips found mine and we kissed as my gaping eyes fluttered shut and I felt his smooth, hairless chest brush up against my paralyzed arm. Suddenly a searing jolt of electricity shot up from my hip where I felt his hard, stiff penis nudge against me.

My brain was exploding from the depraved excitement ripping through it as I felt his arm snake under my neck and pull me to him. Now we lay touching from head to toe, sparks were flying from every point where our skin touched.

As we kissed, I could feel the tip of his tongue softly probing the opening between my lips seeking entrance into my mouth. Then I felt his fingers curl around my quivering breast and find my achingly-sensitive nipple. As his tongue pushed harder, I could feel him pinching, twisting my throbbing nipple between his finger and thumb. My nipples were so hard and swollen, they felt as big as ping-pong balls sticking up out of my tiny breasts.

I had never felt so aroused in my whole life. I could feel my juices flowing out of me and coating my quivering sex. My whole body was tingling, pins and needles sticking me everywhere.

Then I felt Alexei's fingers leave my breast and slowly begin to crawl down over my belly. No, no, no, my brain screamed. He couldn't touch me down there. Not again. My heart wouldn't be able to take the excitement. Breathing in a quick, shuddering breath, I cringed waiting for the fiery touch of his fingers on my sex as I felt his fingers tickle across the trimmed swath of curls just above my drooling sex. Unexplainably, I felt my trembling legs slowly creep apart in expectation of his touch.

I felt like I was being electrocuted as a spasm of electricity sparked through my clit when his fingers brushed across it. I could never remember it being so sensitive, so susceptible. I felt myself gathering, tensing for a cataclysmic orgasm, but his fingers quickly trailed down off my aching clit onto the creamy-wet lips of my cunt.

At last, Alexei broke the kiss, his lips trailing down my cheek onto my neck while his little fingers prlunch the sticky wetness between my legs. Opening my eyes, I watched in the dim glow of the streetlights as he kissed down my neck, onto my shoulder and then onto my breast. His lips felt so soft, so supple as he kissed down to my tingling, throbbing nipple. Like a babe at his mother's breast, which he was, he began to softly nibble and suck on my swollen pap.

It was all so intimate and loving. It was nothing like I had imagined it might be. This was just like it was in one of the stories from literotica. My heart was aquiver. I was finally able to move as I slipped my arm under his neck and cradled him against my aching breast and felt his fingers push into me.

"My Sweet Pasha . . ." I whispered, holding him against me.

"Mommy . . ." he whispered as I felt his warm breath caress my spit-covered nipple.

I didn't care anymore. If he wanted me, I would let him have me. We would just have to learn to live with whatever came of it. I wanted to feel him between my legs, filling me with his warmth, moving with me, sharing his sweet essence with me.

I turned ever so slightly, not enough to dislodge his fingers, but just enough so that I could reach him, touch him, touch his maleness. Reaching across my belly, I felt for his cock. Then a current of electrical energy shot up my arm as the tips of my fingers brushed against his rigid hardness. His cock was stiff, hard as steel as I explored it with my finger tips. I couldn't see how big it was but to my frantic brain, it felt huge. Fondling it, caressing it with my fingers, I tried to measure it.

"Mommmmm—" I heard Alexei groan out around my aching nipple.

"My Baby . . ." I whispered, squeezing harder and feeling him twitch in my hand. "Do you want to put it in Mommy?" I asked him, feeling him lurch again when he heard the words.

"Yesssss, Mommy, yesssss—" he whimpered, letting my tingling nipple slip out from between his lips.

"Come . . ." I murmured, rolling over onto my back, but keeping my fingers wrapped around his penis. Spreading my legs apart wider, I reached down to spread my pussy open for him as I felt the bed lurch when he pushed up onto his hands and knees beside me.

Pulling on him, I felt his knees brush against mine as he crawled over my leg. It seemed almost anticlimactic after all the suspense and anticipation as I watched him slowly lower himself down between my outstretched legs. It was going to happen! My baby was going to fuck me! No, no, I told myself. He was going to make love to me. There was a difference between the two. A world of difference!

Holding onto him, gently pulling, bending him down toward the aching emptiness at the pit of my stomach, I felt the hard, rubbery head of his cock brush against my cream-covered lips. Holding my breath, I waited as I seated the tip of his cockhead down in the juice-slickened opening of my vagina. My pussy. My cunt. The very vessel that had carried him while he was a fetus. It was unthinkable, but it was happening.

"Put it in Mommy, Baby. Put your penis in Mommy's pussy," I told him.

Then I heard him give out a soft sob as he began to slowly push it down into me. I don't know if it was the emotion, the passion, or the depravity of it all, but Alexei's penis felt huge as it pushed into me, opening me, spreading me. Lifting my legs over his, I hooked the backs of my heels around the backs of his thighs and pulled him down into the ravenous hole between my legs. I wanted him so bad. I wanted to feel every last tiny millimeter of his penis inside me.

"Pashaaaaaaa—" I groaned out, grasping hold of the tightly-clenched cheeks of his little ass and digging my fingernails into them as I pulled him down into the tight clutch of my hungry pussy. My little baby was fucking me. My baby boy. My Pasha. My Alexei! I wanted to scream. I wanted to sing. I wanted to cry as I felt him push in deeper and deeper until at last he was totally immersed inside me.

We were one again. Mother and son, the same, joined at the hips by our i****tuous longings. This had been building for a long time and now it was finally happening. It was too much to contain as I felt my pussy explode around Alexei's cock. I was coming! I was coming! I was coming, I screamed to myself as my body began to shake and quiver. Every muscle in my pussy was spasming, clutching, clenching, squeezing down around my son's beautiful penis.

"Baby—Baby—Baby—" I whimpered, straining, trying to pull him deeper inside me as I came and came. "Mommy—" Alexei grunted, thrusting into me, driving himself deep as I came around his buried cock.

"Pashaaaaa—" I groaned. I don't think I had ever creamed so much. I was seeing stars flashing on and off as at last I felt the spasms begin to weaken and die down inside my stuffed pussy.

As my muscles softened and my pussy loosened its strangling hold on Alexei's cock, I felt him begin to move. Opening my eyes, I saw him looking down at me as he slowly rocked back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of me.

"Oh, Baby, I'm sorry, so sorry—" I blubbered as a wave of guilt washed over me.

"No, Mommy, no, don't be sad," he whispered, leaning down and raining soft, fluttering butterfly kisses all over my neck and face as he fucked me.

"Oh, Sweet Baby—" I groaned reaching up, clasping his head between my hands and crushing my lips against his. The kiss seemed to fuel his passion as his hips began to rock back and forth faster.

As the bed shook and creaked under us, I saw a frown creep across his face. It was almost as if he was in pain as he pumped into me harder and harder.

"Oh, Mommy, oh, Mommy, it hurts, I'm—I'm, oh, Mommy—Mommy—" he whimpered.

"Come, Baby, come in Mommy—don't hold it back Baby—give it to Mommy—" I cried out, using my legs to pull him into me as I raked his sides with my long fingernails, scratching and urging him on. Begging him to come inside me, I squeezed and pulled at his plunging cock using every muscle in my cunt. I could feel his cock swelling, growing down inside me as he prepared to fill my cunt with his cum.

Then I felt him jerk, his hips slashing forward and pushing his cock into me as deep as he could.

"Mommmmmyyyyyyy—" he cried out as I felt his penis buck down inside my pussy. Then I felt his soothing warmth spreading out into me, filling me, warming me. The thought of my son actually coming inside me was so poignant, so powerful, I lost it again as I felt another orgasm explode down inside my pussy.

It was the most intense, exquisite feeling I'd ever felt. Every atom of my being was coming. Coming always felt good, but this was beyond that. This was pleasure on an entirely different level.

I was transported to another world. A world where there was no right and no wrong. Everything was possible. Even sex between a mother and her son. . . .

So, I would hope that my Russian friend found happiness. There is so much that can go wrong in an i****tuous relationship, I suppose. If everything works out for them, I could see where it could be the most fantastic thing imaginable. But I guess we'll have to leave it up to them. It is not ours to decide. . . .