Title: I Am Going To Ask Only One More Time
Keywords: mF, mat, cheat, inc, mom, son
Author: Caesar
Summary: Mother is horrified when her son propositions her - but on the drive home from the restaurant, begins to consider the possibilities.
 


There once was a gay young Parisian
Who screwed an appendix incision,
        And the girl of his choice
        Could hardly rejoice
At the horrible lack of precision.


I Am Going To Ask Only One More Time

by Caesar, copyright 2003

Edited by Rick (circa 2005), Revision 1.4

$Revision: 1.6 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $

I felt the blood suddenly drain from my face and stared in horror
directly across the small round table into my son's eyes.  So frozen
by what he had just told me that I could not even take my hand from
between both of his.  My heart seemed to have stopped beating and I
felt suddenly dizzy.

What have I done to make him suggest... make him think, he and I
could... had I done something wrong?

With great effort on my part, I was able to force my head to turn to
see if any of the occupants at the other tables had overheard the
proposition that my son had just given me, the words leading up to it.
If anyone had heard this demented suggestion I would be horrified,
humiliated!

Finally, I pulled my hand from his and realized I was sweating
profusely and felt incredibly overheated.

My god, what had gotten into Rob?

"This is not going as I expected mom?"

Again I brought my eyes to his and saw that he too looked more than a
little embarrassed, his cheeks bright red.  What had he expected - for
him and I to...?  My god, how can he think this way?  What could I
have done while my son was growing up to cause him to think that he
and I could ever...?  Even if he was not my son, I could not, ever,
act like this.

"And what did you expect Rob?"  My voice sounded incredibly cold even
to my ears and I could feel the rising anger building within me.

He shrugged and I could not help but see in that movement the
adolescent that he had been not so long ago.

Rob slowly brought his cloth napkin to wipe his mouth before
answering, "Perhaps 'expected' is the wrong word mom, 'hope' is more
accurate."

A thought hit me like a bolt, and I felt suddenly guilty that it had
not come earlier, "What of your father Rob?"

He cleared his throat before replying, "I know that you have not been
happy...?"

I leaned over the table and could not hold my fury from boiling to the
surface, "What goes on in my marriage is none of your business Rob!"

He looked even more uncertain in the face of my wrath, "I love you mom
and I promise I would make you happy."

I had nothing to say for some lengthy moments until I took a swallow
of the ice water sweating in the glass before me and demanded, "Take
me home Rob.  Now!"  I reached down to find my purse and immediately
stood.

I strode through the dim lit tables as only an angry woman can walk,
until I stood outside the expensive restaurant.  My god what the hell
is going on - my marriage is a disaster, my husband would rather have
sex with any young thing that comes his way than make love to his
willing wife.  My youngest daughter is getting expelled from school,
my eldest daughter is talking about leaving college and now Rob... my
god what I have I done to bring this on?  How can I fix this?

The tears began to well up behind my eyes and I took a deep breath to
still them - I can not show weakness now.  Not in front of the son
that I once considered the dearest gift any mother could ask for.  Now
he was... what?

This night had been the focus of my whole week - my beautiful son was
going to take me out to an exclusive restaurant.  Hell, I had even
bought a new dress and spent an hour on my hair and makeup!  He had
phoned me a week ago and asked me if he could take the prettiest woman
in town on a date and I had felt playfully proud and joyfully
responded in earnest.  I mean he had always complimented me on my
looks and been liberal with small intimate touches and hugs - yet I
never once imagined...!

When was the last time my husband, Rob's father, had told me that I
was beautiful or had asked me to dress in something sexy and take me
out for a night on the town just for the hell of it?  Rob had been
right, damn it, that his father and I were married in name only, yet
how could Rob conjure up the things he spoke to me of only minutes
before is just incredible.

My only son came out of the wide double doors of the restaurant and
mumbled something about the valet bringing his car around in a minute.
I just stood looking anywhere but toward him.  Rob's sports car
finally arrived and I caught the young valet take a generous look at
my legs, the hem of my skirt higher that it has been in many years.
With the door closed I suddenly felt humiliated - a stupid old woman
that was both naive and simple minded.

My son had always complimented me on my legs and even my bottom -
often whistling as a compliment if I wore any type of skirt that was
above the knees.  As infrequent as that was.  No, tonight was supposed
to be special and the hem of the skirt was higher than I ever remember
wearing.  Why not, I had thought earlier - I knew I was no beauty,
never had been, but I was cute in a petite small sort of way.  My
son's compliments had initially been taken in jest, but I came to rely
on my son's pleasure in his mother's looks.  Of course I never
considered his pleasure was anything but pride in his cute mother.

Rob slipped into the car and after buckling in, started to drive
carefully and defensively, even though I know he would rather zoom
down the road like he was in a race.  He drove like this whenever I
was in the car - as I said, he was... is... a very caring son.

I turned my head only enough so that I could see my son out the corner
of my eye.  He was sitting in the shadowed light clenching his teeth
with his lips set tightly.

Perhaps I had handled this wrong.

I mean, I could have just calmly denied him these... delusions... and
brought him back to a reality where I was his mother and he my adult
son.  Instead I had made a scene at the restaurant and then stormed
out of there like a stupid spoilt teenager.

Well, it had been a shock after all.  How often does a woman get told
by her only son that he wanted to 'make love' to her?

You have to believe me that I had no idea he felt this way about me!

"Rob...?"

He just starred straight ahead as I now faced him with my head fully
turned.  "Rob pull over please."

There was a unlit huge parking lot in the next block, that he pulled
into and put his sports car into park.

"I'm sorry I overreacted like that."  He is my loving son - the
proudest thing in my dismal life.  I had to fix this, make him see
reason, practically - let alone morally.

Rob's hands dropped from the steering wheel and his chin dropped to
his chest, his defiance melting before my eyes.  Finally he whispered,
"I'm sorry too mom - I never meant to hurt you."

"I know that honey."  I did too.  From whatever delusions that Rob
lived in, he did love me - that I was sure of.  Hell, it was the only
thing that I had been sure of for many a year.

I just had to ask, "When did you start... feeling this way toward me?"
It took a lot of effort to keep my voice calm as I asked that.  He
remained silent with his head hung so I stated, "It's OK honey."  I
wanted to know what I did to make him deluded in this way - had he
seen his father and I making love?  Or perhaps it was the skimpy
bathing suit I used to wear sun tanning in the backyard when he was a
teenager?  What kind of mother does not consider what the sight of her
own flesh may do to her adolescent son, as I had done?  I even
remember being privately proud that the only male to see me in that
suit could barely take his eyes off the curves of my near-naked flesh
- how naive could I have been?

There was several minutes of silence before he began, "I overheard dad
on the phone in his study when I was fourteen."

The answer took me by surprise - what did a phone call his father have
to do with this... us?

"He was talking suggestively... about doing things... and I thought he
was talking to you."

Oh my god, that bastard was talking to one of his girlfriends from
home and his teenage son had overheard him?

How had this turned him toward me though?  "Keep going Rob, its OK
honey I know about your father."  Of course he knew about his father -
I think all my kids know about his many, and frequent, girlfriends -
but it was an unspoken secret in our house.

Rob lifted his head but still would not meet my eyes as he continued,
"He was talking about tying her up and playing with her... until she
was begging him.  I thought it was pretty cool, him talking to you
like that... but when he finished the call he called her 'Lucile'...!"
My name is Sally.  "Something just snapped and I could not understand
why he would not talk to you like that rather than some other woman -
not want to do those things to you mom."  He head finally had turned
and our eyes met.

This still did not tell me what I needed to know.  I placed my palm
upon his thigh, completely innocent of course, and nodded for him to
continue.

Rob shrugged, "I started to look at you differently after that -
comparing you to other girls I knew, realizing how beautiful you are."
I could not help but sigh - here was the most innocent statement of a
man finding pleasure in my looks and I was vain enough, and desperate
enough, to find pleasure in it.  More than once I had stood naked
before my full-length mirror, in the privacy of my bedroom, and tried
to see the beauty that my son claimed he saw within me, when I saw
only an aging plain woman.  A pleasure, and even a sort of need, for
my son's compliments and lingering looks grew as he passed adolescence
into adulthood.  Now, though, I felt like a liar - to my own self -
and a fool.

Rob heard the sigh and turned toward me in surprise, and it only
stopped his story for barely a second.  "I knew that dad was cheating
on you and in some way that only made me mad.  That you were a
beautiful woman and he seemed blind to that fact and so I was angry
that you were... neglected."  Rob looked at me boldly for a second.
"It was then that I started to think that I could make you happy...
how I could make you happy."

My head turned to look out the tinted window of the car and tried to
hold back the tears as I brought up my hands to cover my lower face.
It was the testimony of my adult life - how messed up my marriage was
and how that seemed to warp the only beautiful thing in my life, my
son.  Until this night, he was the proudest thing in my life and I
would have done anything to make him happy.  I would not have done
that though...!

Could I?

A big strong hand gently lay down upon my smooth, soft, nylon covered
thigh and Rob leaned toward me, "Its OK mom.  You made your position
plain tonight and I promise that I will never bring it up again."
What he was saying is that he loved me enough to just sit back and see
me lonely and in a loveless marriage and it endeared him to me even
more.  Yet Rob was right - something had to change, I have been so
unhappy with my marriage, and life in general, for far too long.

I turned back to my son and placed my open palm on top of his over my
lap and gave it a loving squeeze.  These little touches of his had
always been innocent to me - but now I knew that they are anything
but.  Yet I had considered them important in my life, a young man that
I needed to hold, touch... and just generally be near.  How naive had
I been?

It could never be so again between us.

I had no idea what to say but my lips finally moved after great
effort, "I love you Rob."

He smiled sweetly and gave my thigh a firm, unmistakable, squeeze, "I
love you too mom."  How many times in the last years had he squeezed
my thigh this way?  Yet, this time I felt it to every centimetre of my
body like a small electrical shock.

We sat there in silence for a lengthy few minutes, his hand squeezing
my thigh gently beneath my own while our eyes starred into the others.

I finally broke the thick silence, "I think you should take me home
now honey."  I felt a sudden confusing loss that I dare not decipher
with his gaze and the touch of his hand.

The disappointment in my son's face was obvious and he quickly
withdrew his paw from my leg though it felt as if his strong warm hand
still held it... almost possessively.

Again he faced forward, driving like a robot and without giving me a
single glance.  Meanwhile, I sat with my head turned toward him - a
flood of emotions rolling through me.

It was only moments after leaving the parking lot that I spied the
bulge in his gray wool slacks and had not the sense to hide my gasp.
When was the last time I had seen a man's pants thrust forward like
that.  And probably because of me!

And it had to be huge... larger than his father or even those dates I
fumbled with awkwardly before I was married.

So it was the sight of my son's bulging penis beneath his pants while
he drove unaware that my eyes were locked upon its aggressive
demeanour that caused me to ask, "You used to fantasize about tying me
up and doing... things?"

Now, you must realize that I am a plain looking middle-aged married
woman that had next to no sexual experience before marriage and that
even the desperate times I needed to masturbate caused me guilt
afterwards.  Hell, I never had an orgasm until five years after
getting married!

What Rob had spoken of earlier had shocked me - that he could think of
me that way, regardless that it originated from a conversation between
his father and one of his disposable girlfriends.  So I was shocked at
the question I had asked and froze, fearing and hoping for an answer.

Rob, though, did not even turn his head and simply said, "Yes... and
much more."

A sudden desire to know what 'more' was boiled up within me and I
thanked god that I was able to stop my lips from asking the question.

Rob rolled the expensive car up to a red light and then turned his
head toward me suddenly.  Just as I realized that he had caught me
staring at the bulge in his pants he said, "I still do mother."  A
cold fist took a hold of my guts and held me tight.

My eyes shot up and locked on his own surprised, amused and
questioning pupils.  He asked soberly, "Does it surprise you that I am
excited mom?"

I saw the red light turn green out the corner of my eye and spoke a
little too quickly, "Green light honey!"

Rob turned his head forward and put the car into drive.  Again the
silence was thick and since my son was not looking at me I stole more
glances at the large evidence of his excitement.  My look did not seem
as evil an act, now that my son had caught me looking.

Again my mouth moved before I had the sense to stop it, "Does it hurt
honey?"  I meant the way his penis pressed against his woollen
trousers.

Rob turned his head quickly, as the car was moving at least sixty
kilometres an hour, and his eyes purposefully looked down to my chest
and asked, "Do those hurt mom?"  His head turned back to the road.

There was a trace of bitterness in his voice that I did not have time
to contemplate as I quickly looked down at the place where my son's
eyes had looked and felt my heart stop.  My silk blouse was pulled
tight against my torso so that my breasts thrust outward beneath three
layers of clothing - but it was the aggressive two points on each rise
that I knew my son had been referring too.

My god I am some perverted crazed old woman!  Sitting here in the car
with her adult son staring at his... and not even realizing that my
body was reacting... !

I tentatively squeezed my thighs together and felt a smouldering heat
that I rarely felt without my own self help. I knew that my body was
reacting in simpatico to that bulge in my son's pants.  So I sat
facing forward with my knees locked together and my arms crossed over
my chest.

How long until I got home - five minutes maybe - so close, but oh so
far!

Another red light and while my son sat facing forward, his right hand
moved from the wheel and dropped again onto my nylon covered thigh.  I
starred down at it in horror - knowing that this touch had more
meaning in it than it had ever had before.

It also felt good in a new, alien, sort of way and that scared me not
a little.

As he started to move forward through the green light, his strong hand
pulled my closest leg toward him - away from the other so that there
was an embarrassing gap up the front of my skirt.  I had not deterred
his repositioning of my person and realized that if he bent forward
only a little, he could probably see up my short skirt to my new lace
panties.

Rob's hand was barely centimetres from... between my spread legs, the
bottom hem of my short skirt!  Yet he only fondled my thigh while I
began to expect him to do more.

I forced myself to breath slowly and deeply, and wanted to order him
to take his hand from me, but this time my mouth would not open and I
just watched his hand on my thigh.

We were blocks from my home when he lifted the hand from my lap and
fumbled with my crossed arms.  In a sudden thought, I feared he was
attempting to get at my breasts - to touch them aggressively as he had
done with the inside of my thigh.  Yet, instead, Rob pulled the
closest arm toward him and forced my hand upon his lap.

Then he did something that I would never able to forget - as he
strongly maneuvered my open hand upon that great big beautiful bulge
in his expensive wool slacks.

The car came to a slow stop and Rob put it into park before turning
his head back to me and then just sat silently, staring at his
weak-willed mother.

I sat without moving a single millimetre, my hand firmly grasping that
which felt impossibly big and my eyes staring at both.  I would like
to admit that I thought how time seemed to stand still and the heavens
opened and a light shone upon me - but my mind was blank as I sat
thus.  I did not even have the sense to open the door and rush into
the illusion of the sanctuary of my home.

"I am going to ask only one more time mom."  Rob paused for effect and
my stunned eyes slowly rose to lock upon his, and I saw a strong
frustrated man before me.  "Shall I take you back to my place and fuck
you until you can't walk?"

I gasped, loudly this time.  In the restaurant earlier my son had not
said 'fuck'.  It had been a gentle proposition that any lonely woman
should love to be approached with.

Something had changed between us though and now my son was asking me
to lower myself to that of a common tramp.  To treat me, not as he
called me earlier the 'love of his life', but like a... slut!

My knees slapped together loudly and uncontrollably and I felt a
clench deep down, between my legs.  I even yanked my hand off his
throbbing crotch, with deep longing regret, and again crossed my arms
over my chest.

A mature woman doesn't feel like this, act like this!  And she
certainly does not get propositioned in this common way by any man
without rebuking him severely.  That it was my son should horrify me
further... but it did not.  What I questioned most at that moment was
why I was not disgusted, horrified and just jump out of the car and
into the lonely safety of my home?

Was it because everything that Rob said earlier is true - that we are
perfect together?  And that even included knowing when I needed to be
treated... this way?

My god, my sex is on fire... my nipples were so tight they hurt and I
could not stop the rolling shakes from hitting randomly throughout my
body.  And, god help me, my hand felt as if it was still locked onto
that beautifully hard pole in my son's pants.

Was my son the perfect man for me?  Could god have played some cruel
joke and put the love of my life as the one person that society said I
could not have?  I have lived all these years basking in his presence,
loving just being near him, finding pleasure in my sad existence by
just doing things for him.  Yet Rob had taken that love further and
considered us together in the biblical sense - having considered,
fantasized, about it for many years.  Now it was thrust upon me
unmercifully and very suddenly and I had no way to defend against how
my body and my heart wanted to be this man's love.

There, my mind had taken the leap and actually considered Rob as my
lover!  I did not turn to stone.  No lights from my neighbours homes
on my street turned on with the faces and fingers pointed my way -
calling me an incestuous slut.  And I did not think about my husband
either - and knew that he did not matter to me any more.  Had he ever?

"What is it to be mother", Rob's voice had little patience left in it,
"do you want to feel me inside your body with the cock that you had
just felt up or shall you get out of my car and go masturbate in the
bathtub?"

My eyes widened when I realized my most secret pleasure was known -
that I needed to touch myself, to bring pleasure to myself, regardless
of the guilt I endured afterwards.  Was being with Rob like this - a
pleasure to be secretly enjoyed, hidden from the world, and then
living with the guilt of that pleasure afterwards?  Would the guilt be
endurable though - bringing myself off in the tub because my husband
sought sex elsewhere is barely in the same league of sin as
fornicating with my male child?

His frustrated voice growled and caused me to jump in fear, "Are you
going to get out of my car mom?"  I could feel his eyes glaring at me
like daggers.

Rob had never talked to me like this before - I had never been treated
like this.  And yet I was not scared.  I was no longer even angry at
him or myself.  A wild mix of emotions were swirling within my heart
and soul while my mind attempted to force some semblance of sanity
into the situation.

I quickly looked at the hard bulge in my son's slacks yet again and
then down to my quivering thigh muscles covered in black nylon and
then slowly looked up into my son's frustrated and angry gaze.  A
small voice whispered, "No", and my life would never be the same from
that second onward.

As soon as I said it, Rob's face softened, his eyes blinked and
looking surprised as well as pleased.  A wide smile slowly appeared
upon his lips and his face lightened up considerably.

My heart suddenly lifted from the fearful depths that it lingered in,
fearing the loss of the only male I loved with all my heart - to see
such joy in my son, whom I loved more than my own life, was worth any
price.  Yet it was my throbbing groin that ruled my heart and soul now
and immediately I wondered if he would want me to help him with that
hardness in his pants right away or to go to his apartment first?

I doubted my ability to be as common as my sons fantasies had
formulated over the years - yet a great desire to try to make him
happy overwhelmed me.  Even the growing doubt within my anxious mind -
my age mirrored within my body and the lack of my sexual prowess for
example - had to be overcome.  I had taken the decisive step toward
the forbidden - and I felt like breaking into a run toward the
impossible relationship that I had now committed too and damned the
consequences.  It was my time to be happy, to be with a man who I knew
could make me happy and the only one that I loved more than anything.
My hand reached out and grasped his familiar thick paw and brought it
up to my lips and wrapped my rouge lipstick covered lips around his
index finger and sucked even as my eyes told him I was ready for
anything he wanted of me and that I was looking forward to our future
filled with lust and adventure.

--
