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I was excited and it was all I could do not to touch myself. I could feel my son's rise, could feel the thickening expansion of the thing he'd been hiding under the popcorn bowl until it pressed between my shoulder blades. I shifted my back, pressing down, repeating several times as the movie continued. Sometime during before the next commercial break, Nathan rested his hand on my tummy and began stroking my hair with his other one. I kept my eyes closed, afraid to break the spell, loving the feel of his fingers as they moved in a small circle on my tummy, around my navel where it pouted up, just above my panties.
As the commercials ended I spoke, voicing a notion that had just occurred to me.
"You know, it might not be that bad to work with your Dad. You don't have to be him, you know. You could do it your own way. Maybe not at first, but eventually."
"Mom," Nathan's voice was equally quiet but stretched my name out into a long sound.
"He'd probably get you to take over the local stuff so he could focus on out of state sales. You know how he likes to travel, to be away from home."
Nathan's hand stopped. I wiggled my back, rubbing on his hidden fellow which hadn't retreated.
"That feels good. Don't stop."
Nathan's fingers began tickling my tummy again but in a wider circle. I don't know if he was following a new path because of the interruption or if he felt encouraged by my explicit acknowledgement of his caress and my appreciation of it. It didn't matter, it felt good, and so did the knowledge that I was clearly pleasing him.
"It might not be a bad idea for you to take on your father's responsibilities at home."
The movie started then and I turned my head toward the TV. The sound of my words echoed in my head. 'Take on your father's responsibilities at home'. I was talking about work but the words were loaded, especially in the current context. I smiled to myself. Was I in the twilight zone?
I was lost in my own thoughts for awhile, not sure what, but I suddenly became aware that Nathan's fingers had been traveling in an ever widening circle and he was now brushing over the top of my panties and pressing up against the bottom of my bare breasts, even nudging them up from my chest. I noticed that my right breast was bare now. Had he done that? He washard in my back. Should I stop this? All I had to do was get up, say I was tired, and go to bed.
But I didn't. The commercials started again andI closed my eyes. His hand never paused, it kept up its loving caress over my tummy, scraping along the bottom swell of both breasts, dipping down to stroke along my waist,then up and over my panties, always above the rise to my mound but I could feel him there. Every time his fingers came close, it was almostas if he were touching me. Geez, I needed to stop this.
And then he began to caress my face. His fingers trailed across my forehead, draining any tensions held there, then down my cheek and across my lips and chin and around again, down to cross my neck but the next time acrossmy lips again. It felt wonderful. I felt so sexy and I relished it. When was the last time a man had spent so much time trying to make me feel good?
I turned toward the TV at the sound of the movie starting again. My cheek pressed on Nathan's hand and his fingers curled around to cup my mouth. His fingers continued their caress on my torso. I closed my eyes as his finger nestled in to rest along the 'V' between my lips.
I must have dozed because when I opened my eyes again the movie was over and a different show was playing on the TV. Something felt strange. It was my mouth. Nathan's finger had bent and the tip was now in my mouth. Had I sucked it in or had he pushed it inside? I had noidea.
Then I had another shock. Nathan's fingers, theother ones, were still swirling around on my tummy. They were sliding up my waist toward the bottom of my breasts where they had been brushing by and as they approached, I felt myself tense in delighted anticipation. They came, pushed up against the weighty swell of my lower tit, then swept up and over, each finger brushing across my hugely distended nipple which flicked through them like a pick across the strings of a guitar.
Then his palm pushed my nipple over and slid down, rubbing through the valley between my breasts and up the slope onto my right tit where it replayed the same tune, strumming across that equally stiff nipple. As his hand slid down the cliff to my tummy his fingers draggedbehind and just before they too slid over the precipice, they squeezed together and pinched my nipple, tugging it down before letting it spring back, vibrating like a stiff tong on a tuning fork. A matching feeling vibrated through me.
I had barely recovered my senses when I felt my son's hand brushing over my panties. It no longer seemed hesitant or afraid and continuedits downward sweep until his fingers bumped across my puffy mound, pausing for a light squeeze when they fully covered my little mountain. I felt myself pulse against his cupping fingers and knew I was wet. Oh God! How long had this been going on?
I was in shock. I didn't know what to do. It would be so awkward to stop him now. I couldn't just get up and walk away. I would have to confront him about feeling me up. Unless he stopped. Yes. Maybe he'd quit and I could pretend to wake up and not know what had happened.
I lay still. His hand swept over me, teasing my nipples, squeezing and tugging, then down and over my panties, pausing to squeeze my mound,to feel me push back against him in appreciation, a reaction I couldn't stop. He moved his finger in my mouth when I did that and I couldn't help closing my lips and pressing my tongue along the length of his finger.
I don't know how many times I let him do that before I realized that he wasn't going to stop. He was eighteen and he had a half naked woman laying in his lap, letting him fondle her tits and stroke her panties. He wouldn't stop if we were hit by lightning. Only if his father came home. That would do it. Where the hell was Mark?
Another dozen circles. I was so very horny. This couldn't go on. I had to do something. As his hand dragged down my tit for the umpteenth time and approached my panties, I spoke.
"Nathan, what are you doing?"
His hand paused for only a second, and then continued.
"Taking on my home responsibilities," he replied calmly.
"Nathan, I didn't mean ..."
I didn't finish. Nathan's hand slid over my mound and squeezed. I pushed up against him. I just couldn't stop myself. Immediately, instead of going on as he had before, he pushed his hand down between my legs, cupping the entire front of my panties, then began rubbing quickly up and down, pausing to press in hard, then relaxing and starting to rub me again. My hips moved, rocking my pussy against my son's hand. When his hand paused to press against me, his thumb stretched up to flick across my clit, and then dragged down between the furrow of my lips, as his fingers, bunched together, tried to push inside me through my panties.
I was so wet. I thrust my hips up hard against his rubbing hand, groaning out loud. His finger was moving back and forth in my mouth and mylips closed over it as if I was sucking a small cock. He was rubbing hard and fast now and I was fucking his hand, all sensibility gone, overwhelmed with the feeling of an impending orgasm rocketing around inside my pussy, getting ready to explode through my body. My back arched and I lifted my ass off the couch, only touching with my head and my heels.
"I'm cumming," I yelled, my cry muffled by his finger which was expelled from my mouth allowing the sound of my orgasm to echo through the house."Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaahhhhhh!"
I fell back to the couch but my hips continued their frantic thrusting, clamping my son's hand in the vise of my clenched thighs. Slick as they were, there was no way he could have pulled his hand out even if he wanted to. Slowly, my orgasm began to subside and I loosened my legs, releasing his hand but he kept it there, not moving it, just holding it against me.
When I could, I spoke calmly. "I shouldn't have let you do that, shouldn't have encouraged you. I'm sorry, Nathan. I don't what came over me." I crossed my forearm over my eyes to hide my shame.
"I wanted to, Mom."
"It was wrong, Nathan. It wasn't your fault. It was wrong of me. I won't let it happen again."
"But I want to do it again."
"No, Nathan. It can't happen again."
"But you ...," He paused, as if searching for a way to say something in a nicer way, then continued. "You really needed it."
I laughed at that. I couldn't help it. It was so true. "I know, Nathan. It's just been so long, but it's still wrong."
"But you shouldn't have to go without, just because of Dad." He almost spat his father's name out.
"I can't. Not with you."
"But you said ..."
"That's not what I meant." Wasn't it? Could I becertain the thought hadn't crossed my mind?
"Nathan, let me go now. Let me get up."
He was still holding me, his hand still gripping my panties, the other holding my head. He squeezed me when I said that.
"Not until you promise we can do it again."
"I can't promise that, Nathan." His hand was squeezing.
"Then at least say it won't never happen again."
"I can't say that either." Squeezing, squeezing. I had to get up soon.
"You have to say one or the other."
He was playing for time, softly squeezing my pussy, trying not to draw attention to what he was doing, delaying, hoping I'd eventually change my mind when I couldn't help it anymore. I knew what he was doing.
"No, Nathan. Now let me go." I tried feebly to lift my head.
"Then kiss me like you did before we had the wine."
"Kiss me like you did before, on my lips."
"Will you let me up then?" He was still squeezing, squeezing, and I found myself almost wanting to drag it out a little longer too.
"Yes. But it has to be a long kiss."
He was a natural negotiator. He'd probably do well in his father's business. Squeeze, squeeze.
"Alright," I said.
Immediately his head lowered and his lips pressed against mine. Right away, his hand started to rub my pussy, no longer content to just squeeze. What the hell, I thought. After what I'd let him do, what was a little more rubbing through one kiss? And it felt so good. He had more than one natural talent, or did genetic relatives instinctively know how to touch one another?
Rub, rub, rub. His lips worked against mine. Softly, gently. I loved the way he kissed, much better than his father. I almost forgot about him rubbing my pussy. But not quite. The kiss ended.
"Ok, Nathan. Let me ...,"
His lips took hold of ...

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