Kindly written by Tom
(a disgracefully talented writer)
Jean's goodbye kiss on her son's lips was more lingering than the ones she had given on previous school days. Considering the weekend they had just shared, how could it have been the same? It was hard to send Tommy to school. She had dreaded this moment all Sunday, not wanting to think of being in the house without him. What had started as tender, yet thoroughly depraved acts between mother and son, had grown into an infatuation. Jean had spent every moment since finding him weeping in his urine soaked bed early Saturday morning slowly, but surely, becoming her son's lover.. Truthfully, more than just his lover. The acts they committed together were more than lovemaking. They were an immersion into a perversity that Jean could have never imagined. Yes, she had intercourse with him. And had pleasured his small penis with her mouth. She had even given him a brief taste of her vagina, brief only because the tentative, unpractised licks he made had sent her into an immediate orgasm that caused him to shy from her until she reassured her baby that it was pleasure, not pain, that made her cry out so. But Jean had also tasted and drank his urine, and his prepubescent seminal fluid. And he had willingly drunk her pee, too. Suckled at her breasts, caressed and explored her body with his small hands and cool, sweet mouth. Every thing she suggested, he did. Every curiosity she had concerning his body, Jean explored. This was not sex in the way Jean had always considered sex to be. This was a sharing of all that was her son, and all that was her: a meshing of mother and son.
Finally, last night, Jean had let her tongue venture to her son's tiny, puckered anus. He was lying on his stomach on the living room floor, propped on his elbows and engrossed in his math homework. Despite the perverse nature of what they had experienced over the weekend, Tommy had the presence of mind to remember his responsibilities. Funny, Jean thought, he was in some ways more mature than her at that moment. She would have been contented to submerse herself in the pleasure that now filled her very being. But Tommy was intent on not displeasing his teacher, whom he respectfully called Miss Emily. Remembering the stern, disapproving tone of his teacher's voice the few times she had talked to Miss Emily, explaining either the reason for an absence or an incomplete assignment, Jean understood her son's desire to complete his homework. The one time she met Miss Emily, at the open house, Jean found her intimidating, but impressed with the obvious respect she commanded from her students, their parents and the other teachers. Still, Jean was feeling a little petulant over sharing her son's attention. This was how much their relationship had changed, in her mind for the better. Yes, they were mother and son, but also lovers. Where before she would have left him to concentrate, she now attempted to distract him, much in the way she would distract her husband, Martin, when he would be engrossed in some silly ball game on TV. Jean massaged Tommy's shoulders. Undaunted when he shrugged off her touch, she let her fingers trace down his back, enjoying the cool smoothness of his skin. Jean, ignoring his shy protests, had insisted they remain naked, wanting him to become comfortable with their bodies. Her hand reached his buttocks and she sharply inhaled as she marvelled at how firm they were. Jean was overcome with the urge to kiss her son's ass. With a small moan, she lowered her head and planted a firm kiss on one cheek. Not content to kiss, she nibbled and licked his butt, first one side then the other. This pleasure she had discovered their first night together, when she explored her son's sleeping body with her mouth. She had licked around his hole for a fleeting second before he turned over in his sleep. Jean had ventured there since, but this was still one place on Tommy's body that he protected, deftly moving from her mouth when it came close to his anus. This time she placed her hand firmly on his back, anticipating his withdrawal. Quickly she thrust her tongue between his cheeks, probing through the clenched muscles for his hole. When she found it, she forced her tongue inside her boy. This time, Tommy didn't resist. Instead he slightly spread his legs, allowing her easier access. Jean encountered a taste she didn't quite expect. She had probed into her husband's ass on several occasions, but he had always been careful to make sure he was very clean. Tommy had apparently been less than careful about wiping after his most recent bowel movement, and the smell and taste of the remnants he had left filled her nose and mouth. It was not entirely unpleasant. Like his pee, this was another part of her son she knew she must share. While she wasn't sure if she was ready to go so far as to join him when he shat, she broadened her tongue and began lapping at his ass, intent on cleaning her baby boy. Tommy groaned at the unfamiliar wetness on his asshole, succumbing to the undeniable pleasure it brought. When she was satisfied that he was clean, Jean licked her index finger and attempted to insert it into his tight hole. When Tommy squirmed and tightened his muscles once again, she tried her pinky finger. Rotating it, she was able to work it in to the second knuckle. Feeling him finally relax, she leaned on one elbow and enjoyed the sight of his ass as it stretched ever so slightly to allow her access. Not wanting to hurt him, she withdrew her finger and tasted it, loving the muskiness that lingered there.
"Are you ok baby?", she whispered.
"Yes Mummy...that felt very nice. Not at first, but I got used to it", he replied.
"Would you like to touch my bottom?", she asked hopefully.
Tommy's brow furrowed as he considered her question. Then he turned over and sat up, looking at his mother's naked body as it lay curled up beside him. At the urging of his touch on her shoulder, Jean turned and laid on her stomach. Anticipation welled within her as she felt her son's hand lightly stroke her bottom. He kneaded her soft flesh, then placed his other hand on the opposite cheek. Tommy moved between her legs, which she spread a bit to allow him to rest comfortably between them. Tommy's hands spread her cheeks and Jean felt cool air on her asshole. For what seemed like an eternity, Tommy peered at his mother's hole. Jean closed her eyes, waiting for his next move. She bit her bottom lip as she felt the wetness of his tongue as he leaned and put the tip against her puckered muscle. He drew back, paused, and then returned. His tongue explored around her ass. He nibbled and licked, just as she had done to his. Jean raised her hips, silently inviting him to the centre of her ass. The pleasure that had been building in her exploded when he suddenly stuck his tongue as deep as it would go into her ass. Jean came, just as she had several times that weekend...in wave after wave. Her mind blacked out as she gave in to the feeling that filled her body. When she recovered, Tommy was nestled in her arms. She kissed him, tasting her ass on his mouth. He smiled sweetly and they both drifted off into a light sleep.
Now, as she watched Tommy skip down the sidewalk towards school, Jean was suddenly overwhelmed with shame and bewilderment over what they had done together that weekend. What was she doing, she thought. She was filled with anxiety that she had permanently warped her son. That he would not experience a normal, healthy childhood as a result of her actions. The feeling of shame was enhanced by her sudden urge to masturbate. She should feel revulsion, but the memory of the last two days only made her intensely horny. Without thinking, her hands were clawing between her legs. Standing at her back door, she shamelessly tore at her wet cunt, rubbing and assaulting it. She came standing up, her robe barely covering her as she supported herself with her hand against the door. With horror, she looked up to see her neighbour approaching the door, cup of coffee in her hand. Luckily she was inspecting the flowers along the walk and didn't see Jean struggle to cover herself. That nosy wench would be telling everyone she saw Jean diddle herself while watching the neighbourhood kids go off to school. Jean withdrew into the kitchen, frantically composing herself into some sense of normalcy. A normalcy that she would never find again.
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