Charmed by His Boyishness

I fall for the persistent horniness of my son.

I’m just a normal single mom living with a handsome young man, my son. And, you know, we did it. I’m so embarrassed to share this story, let alone the details I’m thinking of getting into. But I think other people like us should know we’re out there. And I’m betting that sharing these sultry, naughty details is going to really turn me on later so, uh stiff upper lip or something.

If you’ll trust taking it from me, I’m the good side of average looking. I kept myself very well. Age can’t be defeated, but I have naturally and wholesomely done great maintenance. My breasts are a respectable size and yet holding up pretty well. It’s great how much shape they retain. My tummy is firmish and of course thicker, but not bad. My face is great. I kept those wrinkles at bay like you wouldn’t believe. And I never ran through hair colors and highlights so I still have natural silkiness and shine. But the real outlier is my ass. It’s filled out even better since my youth and it has zero sag. I have got the hams and some pretty great thighs to match.

My son is beautiful. Not that manly. But I mean he’s just boyishly handsome but not K-pop girly-boy handsome. I used to completely scorn men for liking young girls and now I’m a hypocrite because I’m crushing my juvenile son. He looks like he’s going to be a trapping stud, but he still barely has facial hair, no body hair to speak of, and he’s slender. He plays volleyball. He’s fit. But he’s that young man’s fit that hasn’t rolled in much of his man’s weight. His dick is respectable size, not impressive, but it is perfect. It’s just so straight and, I dunno clean, just so perfect looking. OMG, I just told you what my son’s dick is like. I love it.

And I know this because he won me over with the charm of boyish horniness. I’m not a slut, never was. Yes, I’m divorced but I wasn’t in hungry cougar mode. I had a couple years of whoring around after I left my husband, looking for a new dad for my son, but mostly just getting an excuse to fuck. But I went dry on it. For years before this started I been in off mode. Ladies, you know what I mean, right? I was busy with work and son, and I didn’t care. I didn’t have a dildo. I didn’t need or want one. I was just in off mode.

But at some point I realized my son was not in off mode. I’d find the stains on his sheets. The tissues in the waste basket. That smell. And I found him giving me some very sus attention. I inadvertently staged it, actually. I have no internet service for my house. It’s hugely inconvenient, but I just saw all the horrible effects of internet on young people and I didn’t want that for my son. I have internet on my phone, but he doesn’t get to have a phone. He actually knows my number and sometimes calls from a friend’s phone. He goes to the library if he needs internet to finish homework. All this is to say he’s got no porn or anything like it. He has me and the girls at school and apparently he finds them all tainted by brain rot, depression, and fanatical internet ideologies.

I’m pretty sure it started with his kisses. We never stopped kissing on the mouth and suddenly these kisses all got to be at least one second, maybe two and a half, way too long to be regular kisses and yet too short to be a come on. And I liked them. At first I didn’t even find them amiss. And when I did find them amiss, well they were still too short for accusations, and too nice for complaints.

But then he actually asked me for sex. Kind of. He told me that they were covering sex ed in health and he wished he could have a little more realistic education. But I knew he was lying because his teacher sent out curriculum and assignments weekly. I could access everything he was learning through my phone and his sex ed had been completed years before he was claiming to be in the middle of it. Of course I told him no, but that wasn’t the end of it. He’d try to catch a feel on my ass as he finished hugging me. He straight up asked to see my breasts. He asked to jack off to me. He asked for my underwear. He asked for pictures. And he asked again and again if we couldn’t just have sex, I mean in those words. I told him no to everything and he always mostly accepted it. But he was always trying to get that sexual contact. Boyishly. Plying his privilege as a son to get into the hugs and get some more breast contact, but afraid of getting caught making breast contact so never really getting a proper feel. Rubs, bumps, lingering hands on the small of my back, unnecessary shoulder rubs, compliments and teasing, waiting to see me at angles for cleavage, bending, stretching my back so my breasts protrude.

It was like being a teenager again. He tried every slick creeper trick that boys think work. And you younger ladies won’t get this, but I grew up in a time where girls were still mostly waiting for marriage. At least we were pretending to and trying to get a boy to prove love to us first so he wouldn’t dump us as soon as he hit it, or worse, hit for a while and leave us pregnant. I only gave it up to two boys before the man I married. And I made all three of them earn the right to sex. For one they had to promise to love me. That was standard requisite. But as my son’s idiotic advances were charming me like an empty-headed school girl, I still knew making him say “I love you,” was completely irrelevant to what was at stake between us. So, I just decided in my head to give in and let him fuck me the next time he made his inevitable go.

Somehow I was in virgin mode. I bought candles and incense and new sheets imagining some perfect romantic tryst. I’m old enough I should know better that you can’t plan perfect sex, but I just got up in my head with it. Finally, I started thinking about what he wanted. He would just want me to look my best. I know I rock his brains out with just tight fitting jeans. But I needed something accessible, playful, and playable. I bought a medium short dress, thins straps, very low cut. I really wanted him to be able to unzip my zipper. I knew he’d appreciate that. So even though I wanted to do some panty teasing with my dress, I decided to get some tiny daisy dukes, that hardly had more than an inch of zipper, and couldn’t cover my ass 100%, and therefore were perfect. A teal G-string that disappeared in my ass-crack, with a see-through peaky window right above the magic spot, sealed the downstairs plan. I needed a perfect bra. Something lacy for him, easy to find, something supportive, even easier, but something not too thick, not these foam shells that all bras are now. I wanted him to get breasts that were my breasts, not shielded and built up as something else. I searched for six hours to find the perfect bra for my son to look down my cleavage and play with my tits for his first time. Then, I got precision waxing. Almost undetectable make-up. And for my hair I went with a playful and energetic pony tail. I didn’t think he have the sexual chops to pull my hair his first time, but I’d fuckin’ let him if he did. The sexy little brat.

I had a misgiving that I would get all fixed up and either he wouldn’t come on to me today, or he wouldn’t come on in the right way to find out that he finally has permission. I was wrong. He took a long, pining look at me and said, “Mom, please, can we have sex. I’ll take good…”

I interrupted him, “Yes. Take me. Take me to bed and do it.”

The look on his face. The glow. I could cum now from that memory. He knew I wasn’t teasing. We went up the stairs with nervous eagerness. I managed to light a couple of candles before he impatiently pulled me to bed. Oh god. He tickled my neck and tasted my freckles, in all the random places. He kissed me with his tongue in a battle I hadn’t had for twenty years at least. He sucked my whole ears in his mouth. I tasted him too every chance I got. He sweet juvenile skin, his hairless nipples, his fingers, deep in my mouth, like his perfect and delicious cock would be later. I flatter myself I almost made him cum by sucking his fingers. Then, he buried his nose in my cleavage and groped and groped at my breasts over that perfect bra. His eyes were almost as enchanted seeing that forbidden lace as how much curve of breast I left exposed for his view. He made a move to open my dress but I maneuvered out of it. I wanted him to take off my shorts before he removed my dress. I cleverly flashed the little shorts underneath. He took the bait and went up my thighs, tickling his finger tips to forbidden ranges, up my willing thighs, just inside the edges of the almost-not-there pant legs, then that barely exposed bottom curve of my buttocks. On an impulse I jumped position to all fours to bend over for him. I forced the curve of my ass, the arc of my back, and shape of my hourglass, to make an irresistible imprint on him. I don’t think he’ll ever forget how I offered him my ass, hidden under my dress that he could easily flip up and drink in the curvature, first with his eyes and then with his curious hands. When he ventured a little spank, I pretend not to allow it. I flipped again to expose the front, lifting my dress shamelessly, the tiny zipper for him to pull down and the button all his to unclasp. I think he almost drooled when he pulled down my zipper. I caressed his forearms in encouragement as he opened up the button. He held for just a moment when he spotted the color of my exposed panties. Boys just love seeing the forbidden, don’t they? Then, he reached his hands inside my shorts to be able to pull them off. And I lifted my ass, also happening to push my pussy at him. He stared at the see through window, tryig to figure out just how much he was able to see, but then I twisted sideways so he would have to stare at the shape of my exposed ass. His hands rode all over my hot bottom with addled enthusiasm. Then, he pushed my shoulders to face me belly down and mounted me in hotdog-in-the-bun position. He laid on me and nuzzled me, told me he loved me as he dry humped me. He reached his hands under my chest to grope my breasts again. He sat up quickly and took off his shirt. I imagined his sexy youthful chest. He twisted me to stick his tongue down my throat as he struggled to open the back of my dress again. I let the cool air of exposure welcoming it, without resistance.

I wiggled out of my opened dress and attacked his pants, ripping them off, biting his boxers, grabbing wildly at his dick while I did so. One hand squeezing him over his boxers, the other sliding up at his balls. He shifted and squirmed in confused delight. He was still so sensitive to touch. I didn’t know how much I would tease him as pulled his boxers down with my teeth and flung them off with my hands, but I couldn’t tease him much. His dick looked so perfect. I was going to lick all around the head and up and down his shaft because each touch had such a strong effect on him. I thought he would cum in my face in seconds, but I would let him and forgive him because he was young and would be ready to go again in minutes. Nay, seconds. But I couldn’t tease him because I wanted it to be in me so bad. I was too impatient. Sucked it in, filling my mouth, not going to deep throat yet, but feeling so intimately full of him, my sexy son. It was so satisfying like getting a massage in my mouth. He got used to the feel. He was slowly enjoying it, but not shuddering at every movement I made. He was not however, getting used to seeing his mom’s pretty face wrapped around his dick. I could see in his eyes that he couldn’t get enough of that. I was into it so much that I had to resist sucking that beautiful dick right off of him because I was really, really, really ready for him to stick it in, you know, the holy hole.

With no sense of transition, I jumped back on the bed bouncing onto my ass. I took off my bra rather than find out if he could do it. I covered my breasts as I removed my bra teasingly, so that he had to come and pry my arms away and devour my breasts. He was only slightly too rough, but reminded of the days when boys were like that for me, infatuated with my breasts, tirelessly desirous of them. He caressed, fondled, slurped, and gobbled at my breasts for such a long time, infatuated like a virgin, until I instructed him to take my panties off. He moved like he was dragging himself away from my bosom.

He stared at the see-through part of my underwear again. He couldn’t believe he was going in. I lifted my ass for him once more, held a second longer for the extra tug it took to get the string free of my ass cheeks. He stared in blissful wonder at my holiest of holies. I didn’t know if he would want to taste me. When I was younger, only one of my boyfriends liked it and I thought he was such a perv. Now, I had no such qualms. Neither did my son. With no more encouragement than simply letting him see it, he ate my pussy like a trade professional. I had to ask him later if before he ate out any of his school friends. He swears he never did, but it was the only thing he did to me that that day which seemed more skill than boyish fervor. I decided to reward him by graciously allowing the silly newb to give his lover an eruptive orgasm on his first try, knowing he would be completely immature and brag about it in perpetuity. But, hey, I’m a giver. I gave the hairless whelp a cum beard.

Really I needed time to recover from my orgasm, but I knew he needed release. I asked him how he wanted me, “Choose any position you like.” What words for a mom to say to her son. He obviously wasn’t prepared for the question so I bent over and offered him my bodacious, plump, gorgeous ass, now with no dress, no shorts, no cloth on the pussy, or even flimsy string up the crack, just that magical entry way which he’d been trying to get the key to for months. He fumbled idiotically to get it in, but I loved the unintentional teasing he put me through. I didn’t help. When the tip got right, I felt like a virgin again. I’d been sexless so long that I was tight again, physically and mentally. I couldn’t help giving him resistance. My pussy was simultaneously dying for it and reticent. I felt one hand take my hip. The other was on his straight, stoney member, keeping it lined up right. He forced past my involuntary twitches of resistance and we both burst out bellowing, echoing, moans, almost harmonious with each other but cacophonous with the echoes. He put the other hand on my hip. He owned his mommy’s pretty body. I wanted to close my eyes and feel the entry with all my being, but I had to see the look on his face. His first time would only happen once. I looked back over my shoulder. His neck and his eyes were having a battle. His neck wanted to roll back and let out more unfettered moans and yalps. But his eyes wanted to see him mother’s pussy and the fact that his dick was entering it. His eyes won and he stared as he gave out little puppy yelps of pleasure. Soon, he completed a stroke. He was riding, riding me smooth. But I barely let him get the feel of fucking me before I started pushing back on him. I purposely pushed back in away that would fuck up his balance. He had to thrust hard back or he was going to get knocked out of bed. I made that pretty virgin smash the puss.

There we were, a good looking mom, sexless for years, a better looking son, somehow still a virgin, but fucking so hard that it sounded like an earthquake even against the explosive volume of our unformed utterances. I managed to have another earth shattering orgasm. I let that bastard score two one me. Mine was right before his. You might accuse me of telling a whopper, but for all the planning I had put into this event, I hadn’t thought once about where he was going to cum. So when my beautiful son, balls deep in my holy hole said, “I think I’m cumming.” I had a panic! First I pulled away. Thus, the first jet went on my ass. But I felt horribly guilty for abandoning his orgasm like a prude, brat, tease. So I whipped around fast and put my mouth on it. The second jet went in my mouth. I lit up in surprise like that wasn’t what I expected to happen. My mind was still racing in confusion, not knowing what I wanted from this or what I wanted to do for him. I wanted to swallow for him to prove something, but also want to spit it in my hand so he could see his cum come put of my mouth, proving, I dunno, the same thing. I got interrupted in this musing by another idea so I randomly dribbled his cum down my lip as I rubbed the tip of his dick across my tits. That’s what they always did in the porns when I was younger, so that’s probably wanted he wanted to see, right? And naturally a third jet painted my tits, while some of the second jet dripped down with it. Then, I upped and said to myself, “Fuck it.” I laid down for missionary, pulled him by his schlong and put him back in me, right back in my pussy. Then, I wrapped my legs and my arms around him and let whatever jets or ooze were left just come out in there. Incestuous complications be damned. I was trembling with excitement and nervousness, and thrill. And my smart ass teenage son said, “Geez Mom, are you a virgin?”

I still let him hit it again. And again. I can’t resist his boyish horniness. It charms me straight out of my panties. And I just want any other moms and sons out there like us to know, they’re not alone.