Kindly written by Tom
(a disgracefully talented writer)
Jean sat on her couch, whiling away her late evening/early morning in the usual fashion. Tom Snyder on the TV, ignored as always. Engrossed in the latest Stephen King novel. The empty bottle of white zinfandel on the coffee table finally drained a week after she opened it. She tried to limit herself to two glasses a night, not wanting to get into the bad habit of getting drunk alone.
Alone. Even after 10 years of marriage to a Navy captain, she never got used to Martin's six-month deployments at sea. She never fell into the habits of some other Navy wives she knew. Katie, who went from man to man… meeting them at bars, bringing them home to fill her lonely bed. Louise, who drank herself to sleep every night. The young Filipino girl, Jasmine (real name? yeah, right) who stripped at the bar just outside the base gates. How humiliating it must be for her meek husband, a chief who met her in a strip club in Manila. He fooled himself into thinking she loved him, and didn't just marry him to get stateside. She'll leave him as soon as her citizenship is secured, Jean told herself every time she saw the sexy little Asian at the commissary.
No, Jean concentrated on raising their eight year old, Tommy. Her baby boy. She devoted nearly every minute of the day to his well-being. Such a frail child, her mothering infuriated Martin, who was sure the boy was going to end up being gay. Jean didn't care. She committed her life to him. Joined the PTA, arranged piano lessons at age 5 when she noticed his natural musical talent. Nursed him through the slightest cold. Dabbed his tears when he came home crying from the teasing of the other kids. Maybe he was a little bit of a sissy. But Jean only saw an intelligent, sensitive and talented boy and she was determined to make his life as perfect as possible.
Jeans remaining time was spent satisfying her inevitable sexual urges with her best friend, a 8" metal vibrator, which had begun its siren call in her head. Beckoning her to release it from its drawer and take it to bed. It's nights like this one, when memories of the many wonderful nights when Martin returned filled her head. The impassioned animal sex that always lasted long after the sun arose. Ah, nothing like a man returning from sea. Jean's sister Lee Ann always thoughtfully kept Tommy for the weekend, knowing full well that Jean and Martin's house was no place for a child at those times. At that moment Jean had a particular memory in her head. Martin standing on the bed, legs slightly spread. He's holding her legs under her knees, so far up only her shoulders rest on the bed and her head bent in an uncomfortable position. Martin's cock pistoned her stretched asshole. The very discomfort of the position heightened the submissive nature of the act. She liked her sailor man to fuck her hard, even mean. The other mothers would be shocked to see her wanton behaviour during these sessions. They knew Jean as a conservative, almost stuffy, Captain's wife and devoted mother.
Jean sighed, marked her place in the book, and decided to go have a date with that friend before she slept. She clicked off Snyder in the middle of some pointless observation. Grabbing her empty bottle and glass, she headed to the kitchen. After discarding the bottle and rinsing the glass, Jean shut off the lights and walked softly down the dark hallway to her bedroom. As she passed her son's closed bedroom door, she thought she heard a sound. Quietly opening the door she heard it again. Tommy sounded like he was crying. Not bawling, but sniffling and making little mewling sounds. Jean stepped lightly in the room and leaned over her son. Touching his wet cheek, she asked, "What's wrong honey?". Tommy murmured and buried his face in his pillow. Jean rubbed his shoulders, then gripped one to turn him over.
"Tell me hon".
"I'm wet again".
"Oh sweetheart, again?".
Tommy had episodes of wetting his bed until two years ago, but Jean thought he was past that. Now, as then, it happened when his father was away. Jean slipped her hand under Tommy's sheet and felt a very warm puddle of urine between the edge of the bed and Tommy, who was curled up on his side. Her hand brushed against his soaked jockey shorts and was surprised to feel that her son's penis was erect, its shape prominent against the wet cotton. Jean blushed in spite of herself, and quickly pulled the sheet back over Tommy's waist. She leaned over and kissed her son, whispering to him that she would be right back to clean him up. In a gesture he hadn't made in years, Tommy quickly propped himself up, reached around his mother's back and pulled himself to her breast. Normally Jean would hug her baby boy, but she was startled to feel her son's cheek against her bare breast. As she arranged his sheet, her terry cloth robe had opened revealing one breast. Now Tommy's face was there. His lips, wet from tears, were at the edge of her large aureola. Jean froze, not wanting to reject her troubled boy, but uncomfortable. Not with the warmth of her boy's skin on hers, but with the realization that the sexuality of the feeling did not bother her. In a motion so slow she was barely aware she was doing it, Jean drew her son's head closer, causing his lips to rest on her nipple.
"There, there my darling...it's ok".
Tommy made a small noise of contentment and parted his lips. Jean held her breath; suddenly aware of the step she was taking. "But was it really a step?", she rationalized in her head. After all, she was just comforting her beloved son. Her hesitation left as she heard the contented purrs coming from Tommy's throat as his mouth closed over her nipple and began to suckle her ever so tenderly. But the position was awkward so Jean temporarily pushed him away, then repositioned Tommy so he was lying across the bed. Jean scooted further onto the bed and drew her son back across her lap. This time Tommy went to her right breast and let his small hand rest on the left. This felt so natural to Jean, nurturing and comforting her only son this way. She was aware that the black silk panties covering her ample, but not too large bottom, were becoming soaked with Tommy's urine. Jean knew she could not stop at that moment to change the bed, and even thought the warm, wet pee felt oddly nice on her ass. So Jean enjoyed this moment of closeness with her son. She began stroking his hair, then his shoulder. Jean's fingertips found their way down Tommy's thin back until her hand rested on his bottom.
"Honey, you're soaked. Mummyy's going to take your underwear off now", Jean whispered. Tommy nodded and slightly raised his hips as Jean pulled the drenched shorts down his legs. Perhaps it was the horniness that led her down the hallway in the first place, perhaps it was the overwhelming love for her son that led her to take what was indeed a step down a road she would soon admit led to pure lust. Jean held the wet ball of cotton to her nose. Instead of the revulsion she half expected to feel as the ammonia smell of Tommy's briefs filled her nostrils, Jean moaned because it smelled so good...the essence of her baby boy. She rubbed the shorts over her face, suddenly wanting it all over her. She squeezed as if holding a sponge, and closed her mouth over part of the wet wad and drank the urine as it was forced from the cotton. "God, that is so good...tastes so salty and warm", Jean murmured to herself.
To Tommy, in a reassuring, yet husky voice, Jean said, "See honey. Mummy doesn't think your pee is nasty. It is just something your body produces, and Mummy loves everything about you".
There was slight confusion in Tommy's eyes as his mother forced his mouth from her stiff nipple. Jean took the ball of underwear and spread some urine over her right nipple. She then pressed her son's head back to her breast.
"Here baby...see? It tastes nice, doesn't it?". Tommy's reply was to suck Jean's nipple harder than before, and included little licks, as he tasted his pee. Jean's mind was entering another level now. The tender loving feeling was being replaced by desire. The nagging thought that this was somehow wrong was completely blocked out. Jean closed her eyes and allowed her lust to carry her away. She opened them when she felt Tommy's hand leave her breast. Unconsciously, Tommy had begun to rub his erect penis. With a smile, Jean was surprised to see that her boy's member was a little bigger than she expected, nearly four inches long. Although thin, and with a small head, it looked like a 1/2 scale model of Martin's. Jean realized that although she had seen her son naked nearly every day, she had not seen his penis fully erect. Now she was moved to touch it, see what it felt like. She placed her hand over his, and Tommy quickly tried to move his hand and turn his hip in embarrassment.
"It's ok honey. It's perfectly ok to touch yourself like that. See, Mummy wants to touch it, too". Jean pressed her palm length ways along the young cock, pushing it against Tommy's lower belly. Slowly, she stroked up and down its length. She felt it respond by twitching against her hand every time it moved over the head. Within seconds, Tommy groaned and bucked his slim hips. He let out a small gasp as Jean saw a thin stream of nearly clear semen escape the tiny hole at the end of Tommy's penis. She understood that her boy had ejaculated and she wanted to taste his pre-pubescent fluid. After rubbing her palm against the small pool on his belly, Jean brought her hand to her face and licked her son's ejaculate from her hands. It, too, tasted a little salty. But just as tasty as his urine, only a little different in texture. Overcome with desire, Jean pushed Tommy's head back to his pillow and straightened him in the bed. After forcing his legs apart, Jean lowered her face between them, wanting... no needing...to lick her son clean. Tommy did not resist, his trust for his mother so complete. Jean started at the remnants of the pool of semen, cleaning it with the tip of her tongue. Then it flicked at the tiny drop still left on the tip of his shrunked cock. Jean paused before she took the step that could not be retraced. She sucked her only son's tiny penis completely into her mouth. It tasted so good. The mixed tastes of semen, urine and the natural muskiness of his crotch combined to drive Jean over the edge. She was sucking her son's penis, tasting and swallowing his bodily fluids! Instead of causing Jean to feel shame, the depravity of the act only confirmed her sense that only she, her son's flesh and blood, could commit these acts. So personal, so intimate. She now knew that she must experience everything with her son...taste every inch of him, letting him taste her. And teach him how to receive pleasure from and give pleasure to her.
Tommy's cock popped from her mouth. Panting, she raised up to look at her son. The sweet smile on his face, and the glazed look in his eyes, convinced her that her son would willingly accept her attentions. As she looked at him, Tommy closed his eyes and sighed. The wet warmth of Jean's mouth had an unexpected effect. A thin stream of hot urine hit Jean squarely on her nose. Without thinking, Jean grabbed Tommy's dick and directed to pee into her open mouth. She allowed the pee to fill her mouth, then closed her lips and swallowed. This fluid was hotter and fresher than the lukewarm pee that soaked his shorts, and tasted wonderful. The piss that hit her closed mouth coursed down Jean's face, chin and spread over her breasts. As the warmth reached Jean's erect nipples, something happened which never had before. Without so much as a touch to her hot pussy, Jean had an orgasm. And no small one either. A feeling of pleasure washed over her body, assaulting every nerve ending. Wave after wave, the orgasm didn't seem to have an end. Finally Jean collapsed on top of Tommy, covering her son with her spent body. Tommy loved the way his mother's body felt on him, so wet and warm. After what seemed like an hour, but what was only a few minutes, Jean collected herself. She arose, then bent and lifted her small son up and cradled his body in her arms.
"Let's go get you cleaned up sweetheart", she said. Jean carried her boy in this fashion towards the bathroom, lovingly pressing her lips to his forehead.
"My darling boy. I love you so much", Jean cooed.
"I love you, too, Mummy".
Those words were the final assurance that led Jean on the depraved path that she willingly followed in the next few years. Little did she realize at the time that following that path would eventually cost Jean her marriage, reputation and freedom. And it would cost her the thing she cherished most, her life with her son.
But that would be years in the future. Until then, she would indulge in unspeakable pleasures with her darling Tommy.
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