If you haven’t read the 2 previous chapters, do so before reading this one. Please like and comment.
“Get off of him you little whore!” I almost say out loud. Blossom, Alex’s adopted sister is straddling his thighs clearly enjoying spooning cereal into her older brother’s waiting mouth. The two of them are on the living room couch, their sides to me. She’s wearing tight pink booty shorts that hug her impossibly compact Asian ass and a somewhat looser fitting T-shirt that subtly betrays the fact that she isn’t wearing a bra. Not that her baseball size adolescent breasts need any support. Her lower legs are folded beneath her and the soles of her pretty little feet bounce as she jokes and jostles with her brother who can certainly feel the skin on skin contact since all he wears is a pair of basketball shorts. Every time she pauses feeding him her free hand cups his shoulder or presses against his bare chest.
I’m on my laptop at the kitchen table which adjoins the living room trying to catch up on local events in the news and social media, but the raw jealousy coursing through me makes it nearly impossible. I haven’t felt anything like this since high school. And that was with my best friend hitting on my boyfriend, not my daughter in a borderline petting session with my son who thankfully can’t fondle her with his fractured arms locked out straight.
If this had happened a year ago I would have just seen it as innocent play between my teen son and his childish sister. Blossom was a very late bloomer. Last September, I sat in my Tahoe waiting to pick her up at school. I was surreptitiously enjoying the view of her ripe young 8th grade classmates, their newly developed breasts straining against undersized blouses and T shirts, long shapely legs and plump butts clad in tight shorts or painted-on jeans. Most of them were quite eager to display their newfound assets and as I remember from my own experience, relishing every second of attention they receive from boys, men, and each other. I sat there in my SUV pretending to look bored while my sunglass covered eyes drank in every curve and movement of their succulent flesh strutting by. I didn’t dare unbutton my slacks but when I couldn’t stand it any longer I casually let my hand wander to my crotch to press and rub myself through the fabric.
I know what you would say to me ladies. “You’re a degenerate hussy wanting to prey on underage teens!” Well, don’t try to bullshit me or yourself you whores. I’ve seen the way women look at hot teenage boys AND girls when they think no one notices. I’ve been on the anonymous Internet forums and read the salacious illicit often illegal fantasies women post. Occasionally they even have the guts to tell me in person their debauched raunchy yearnings while they play June Cleaver to the world.
The back door flipping open as Blossom threw her backpack in had jarred me back to reality. On the drive home, as she sat beside me in the passenger seat I confirmed that she still showed no signs of puberty and I felt bad that the girls in her class constantly chided her for it. But that was then.
Thankfully the 11 months since has changed my Chinese-Indonesian daughter substantially. Through her final year of grade school her hips have widened and those childlike stick legs have become curvaceous and lengthened to push her height up several inches to a current five foot two, which she gleefully acknowledges each time I measure her. With a bit of detective work I was able to find her father is from an aristocratic mixed race family mostly Indonesian but with a bit of Dutch heritage that they proudly claim. From photos I’ve found he’s substantially taller than average for that area of the world and his handsome classy looks explain why some embassy girl was so eager to get knocked up by him. Blossom has clearly inherited his genes with smooth light golden caramel skin, long straight dark brown hair and beautiful deep russet eyes. Much of the disparaging remarks from other girls has gradually been replaced with jealousy and competition.
First thing this morning after our toilet duties, Alex and I encountered her coming in the sliding glass door fresh from laps in the pool. She had only dried enough not to track water through the house on her way to her downstairs bedroom and rivulets of water trickled down her sleek toned body. I was struck by how sexy she looked in the athletic one piece I recently purchased for her. It was black with green shoulder straps and wide stripes down the sides. It was the Overall Pick on the first Amazon page and I bought it thinking solely about function and because she had grown out of her old suit. As a woman you are highly tuned into a man’s mannerisms and body language and my son was clearly looking at his little sister in a way that made him slightly uncomfortable.
“Umm.. Did you have a-a good swim Blossom?” he stuttered.
“Yeah, it’s too bad you won’t be able to use the pool until springtime.” she said tilting her head back while reaching up to sweep her wet hair rearward.
His eyes were locked on her small breasts and he blinked and swallowed hard several times.
“Well let’s get you breakfast kiddo.” I said pulling him towards the kitchen. As I said, I’m enjoying every moment of contact I’m having with my beautiful boy. So it it irked me when my daughter instantly volunteered to help feed him and dashed downstairs promising to quickly return which she did in record time.
So here I sit, stewing, watching her straddle my man.. my son, like she’s on her favorite fucking stallion or something. He’s done eating and the bowl is on the coffee table.
“With your arms in casts I can beat you up anytime I want.” she jokes.
“Dream on!” my boy responds and with that he begins pistoning his muscled legs up in turn, bouncing her small frame up and from side to side. She grabs his shoulders and begins to laugh louder and harder then I’ve heard her in years.
I should be enjoying watching my children enjoy their sibling play, not clenching my jaw hard enough to crack a tooth. I should appreciate that my daughter wants to help me care for her invalid older brother. No. More than anything right now what I want to do is spring from my chair, grab Blossom by her damp hair and yank her little ass off of him. Get in her face and let her know he’s mine!
“Shit!!”
I’ve yelled that out loud. I’m gripping the keyboard so hard random stuff is popping up on the screen. They’ve stopped and are both looking over at me.
“What’s wrong mom?” Alex asks clearly concerned.
I have to think fast. “Nothing.. Sorry. It’s just some new taxes the county wants to impose.” To my relief Blossom dismounts him and pads past me to put the bowl in the dishwasher. On her way to the door to the basement, she stops momentarily and bends over to kiss him on the temple. I study her closely. It starts like any sister might give her brother a friendly peck. A,”Hey, see you later bro.” gesture. And as her lips press against the side of his head, that’s all it is. But instead of immediately pulling away, her mouth keeps contact for just an additional second as if her brain meant it to be quick but her heart prolonged their contact for every possible millisecond. I see her look down then blink rapidly a few times mildly surprised at the intimacy she’s expressed. She licks her lips and a concerned look comes over her before she scurries off. I know for certain what she’s thinking. She realizes she loves Alex. She loves and wants him in a way she isn’t supposed to and it has sent her into a mild panic. Thankfully he seems oblivious to all of this.
Later, in my home office working, I rehash the morning events. Alexander briefly looking at his younger sister in a sexual way isn’t hugely concerning. His full throttle teen sex drive coupled with a young wet nubile Asian girl displaying herself to him would have any boy his age gawking even if she was his blood relation let alone an adoptive sister. I’m more worried about Blossom. I’m worried because I know she’s having the same whirlwind emotions I have and has to deal with them as an inexperienced immature young woman. Maybe I should talk to her about this…
“Oh, great idea Cassandra” my little voice taunts me. “Maybe you can advise her to just rub one out fantasizing about her brother just like dear old mom does all the time thinking about her own son!” I chuckle at the thought before a graphic vision flashes in my head. Blossom in her basement room, spread eagle naked on her Hello Kitty bed, her finger running the length of her moist teen slit while her free hand pinches erect nipple. “Yes Alex, fuck my tight little cunny! Bust your sister’s hymen and knock my fourteen year old ass up!” she cries.
I pull my hand away from you-know-where and lean back in the chair letting out a sorrowful groan. My whole body is hot and flushed and barely a minute passes without a sexual thought racing through my brain. Aren’t the usual female infatuations enough? The hot but happily married forty something guy at work. Alan Ritchson. The NFL quarterback with the 1970’s biker look. The sculpted personal trainer at my gym aptly named “Chad”. All the nameless porn guys, and gals. Do I also need to be tortured with indecent thoughts about my best friend, her son? My own son and my developing adoptive daughter? Fuck me…
I’m not going to be able to concentrate on numbers in ledgers. I think about the movie Tombstone where Kurt Russell and his love interest are on horseback and the mare is “In Season” and the stallion is excited by it. The woman suggests riding the sexual frustrations out of them.
Yeah, exercise is what I need…
The next morning:
“Beep-Beep-Beep” 7am. I hit the off button on my alarm clock by feel and cover my face with the pillow. I’m sore. Yesterday’s 2 hour session in our home gym and 4 mile run have taken a toll. I shouldn’t have pushed myself that hard and it only temporarily distracted me from my incestuous thoughts. And not masterbating yesterday or before bed has left me horny as all get out and my night was filled with lurid sexual dreams all involving my son and I.
Forcing myself up, I do some basic stretches and swap my moist panties for a fresh pair. This daily intimate contact with Alexander has me primed like a bitch in heat, but after moving for a bit I surprisingly start to feel somewhat normal. I’ll take care of my boy today, get some housework done, and tonight treat myself to some porn and one of my vibrators to hopefully relieve some frustrations. Helping him in the bathroom is manageable, but having my hands roaming his wet soapy body in the shower will surely bring on another round of wanton lust in me. Thankfully he won’t need to bathe for another day or so. “You’re looking forward to it Cassandra. You’re counting the minutes to getting back into the shower with your naked son you sick whore!” “Shut up.” I say out loud to my little voice.
Studying myself in the mirror after my morning pee I’m struck by the semi wild Greek island woman staring back at me. My constrained office hairstyle has reverted to its natural unkept dark curly state. My skin is flush and lips are full and slightly puffy. Even the D girls swaying free and exposed feel bigger and more more sensitive than normal. To confirm as much I roughly twist one nipple between my fingers eliciting a moan as my other hand wanders lower sliding under the elastic band of my underwear. “Maybe a quickie before I start the day..” No, I can’t. I have things to do.
After donning sweats I make my way to Alex’s room. He’s sleeping soundly face down with only the top of his head visible from under his comforter. “Rise and shine baby!” He just grunts. I know he won’t move without some motivation so I yank the covers off of him. All he wears is the shorts and underwear from when I dressed him after we showered two days ago. Despite my best effort I linger for a moment soaking in the view of his perfect teen male form. “Ah right-OK” he mumbles as I reluctantly peel myself away and pick up some dishes and dirty clothes. “I’ll be back in a few minutes and I want you up.”
When I get back he’s awake but still on his stomach. “Come on Alex, I know you have to pee and then we’ll work on some breakfast.” He’s protesting as I pull on his legs to slide him off the bed and once up he keeps his back to me. Leading him to his bathroom I see why he’s so reluctant. Despite his efforts using his cast cladded arms to cover himself, he's clearly sprouting some serious morning wood. Now I’m on edge. It’s enough of a turn on holding his flaccid penis but to have him aroused? It’s understandable though. Teenage boys need daily orgasms sometimes more than once a day but I’m pretty sure my boy is unable to relieve himself with his arms locked straight out. No stained sheets. No crusty socks or paper towels…
We’re in front of the toilet and he’s starting to turn red and stammering. “Mom, I umm..” I lean in just inches from his ear. “I know you’re hard sweetheart. It’s OK.” But it is more than OK for my sick perversions. A sweet ache shivers through my damp cunt. I slide Alex’s shorts and underwear down first having to pull the front forward to keep him from hooking on the waistband. He’s turned away looking like he’s about to die of embarrassment so I use the opportunity to really look at his cock. “Oh fuck!” I almost say out loud. Like the rest of him, my son’s erect manhood is simply beautiful. About six inches, with subtle blue veins and a mushroom head that’s glazed with pre-cum and bouncing slightly with his heartbeat.
I unconsciously lick my lips then take hold of him as I have in our previous bathroom trips. His penis seems to harden even more in my hand and he draws quick shallow breaths. I use my thumb to push firmly down aiming him at the bowl. He grunts several times clearly having difficulty pissing in his aroused state but after a couple spurts, a strong steady stream finally comes out of him. As I look up to say something like, “There you go sweetie” he slips off my thumb slinging urine against the tank, skyward, then back onto his bare chest. Trying to regain hold, I momentarily succeed in cupping my palm over his head splashing more piss all over myself and him only then re-aiming the flow into the bowl. “Fuck-fuck!!” Alex says nothing. He has his eyes closed tightly clearly in a dual state of desperate need and shame.
After he finishes, I soak a warm washcloth and try to clean us up. It’s hopeless. Piss has soaked his clothing and run down his legs and splashed onto me as well. “Well, I guess today just became bath day” I say. Our incident does at least have the effect of bringing him down to half mast.
I remove his garments grabbing some fresh clothes and he follows me naked down the hall into my room and bathroom. I close him in and scamper to my dresser to grab my suit. Shit! My one piece is downstairs hanging by the dryer... I reach into my bathing suit drawer but instead of picking another conservative one piece I find myself pulling out a new suit I bought called the Hot Luci Gold Tiny Micro Bikini. I got it thinking I just might have the chance to wear it privately for a man out at the pool sometime. “What the HELL are you doing!?” my voice of reason screams. I’m not listening. I quickly strip, strap on the suit and cover myself with a bath robe. I purposely bought a size too small and my D cups are barely contained in the top.
My son has his sweet rear end to me as I enter the bathroom. What an ass he has. Athletic with nice sculpted indentations in his glutes. “Ok babe, are you ready?” I ask, trying not to betray the nervous wreck I am as I pull the plastic cast covers off the towel rack. “Ah yeah, I guess.” Although Alexander’s erection has diminished, I can tell from his demeanor how frustrated he is from being unable to satisfy his sexual needs. If this was normal times, he probably would have jerked off last night to some internet bimbo or stroked one out before getting out of bed this morning. Or maybe he’d have his hot friend Quintin over last night and they would have satisfied each other multiple times in steamy teen, interracial, boy on boy sex. Oh God!
I feel myself being drawn down a path that we won’t be able to come back from. They say men are led by their dicks. Well my pussy is inexorably dragging me towards possibly doing something I may dearly regret, something I won’t be able to take back. His cast covers in place, I step in front of him and peel off the robe tossing it on the vanity. Alex’s eyes nearly bug out of his head at the sight of his mother in the tiny gold bikini. Pretending not to notice, I step into my spacious shower turning the water on and give him a view of the small triangle of fabric at the top of my ass that sharply converges into a thong strap that disappears into my crack where it slides deliciously across my asshole. He’s already turning away-his cock swelling with fresh blood but his eyes continue running laps all over me.
Seeing how I affect him brings on a strange new calmness and confidence. I still don’t know for sure how far I’ll take this or whether I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life, but at least I’m not so nervous that I may puke. I pull us in closing the large frosted door guiding him under the warm spray and watch the water cascade down his magnificent form. My vagina is throbbing and I can already feel the little patch of material over my pussy soaking through with my secretions.
Just like the first time we showered together I start with my son’s head, then pits, arms, legs, chest and back. But this time everything is slower, more sensual and I take every opportunity to brush my body against his. Massaging his neck and back calms him down but a quick glance confirms his young prick is still at full attention. I rest my chin over his shoulder-my lips nearly touching his ear-my big fake tits caress his back. “Has this helped you relax baby?” I whisper. “Ah huh.” He’s breathing deep and heavy, seemingly in a trance. Extending the shower head, I press against his back bending him forward and spray the water up into his backside. But this time I forgo the washcloth and slowly run my bare soapy hand down into his crack across his anus. Back and forth like I’m cleaning him but with a little extra love. Alex lets out a barely perceptible moan. My little boy likes mommy playing with his ass. I’m sooo turned on! My free hand sneaks to my crotch and I have to stifle a moan of my own.
Reluctantly removing my hand from his ass I rinse him off. This just leaves his crotch. Adding a little soap I lather around his hard-on massaging his balls then gently work my fingers into his pubic hair. I let my wrist and hand brush against my boy’s cock teasing him further. His eyes are closed-mouth open with his pink tongue sticking out slightly. This entire time I’ve been walking a fine line between a dutiful mother bathing her invalid son and something more. Something outright sexual. But with a final spray off we’re unfortunately done. The proper thing to do now is dry Alexander and put his clothes on so we can go on with our day….
But I just can’t.
“Baby, it looks like with your arms in those casts you can’t take care of your needs..” Without waiting for an answer, I squirt a generous puddle of conditioner into my hand then reach down and begin to lovingly lubricating my son’s scrotum, this time gripping his penis and lightly stroking. “Uuhh!” he moans. “It’s OK sweetheart let me help you.” With him distracted my free hand dives under the bikini bottom immediately attacking my engorged clit. As I begin jerking my son off he lets out little grunts in time with my strokes. The silky rock hard feeling of his slick shiny tool in my hand has me as turned on as I can ever remember. My heart is pounding in my chest. His eyes are slightly open staring straight ahead. I’m pressed against his side openly masterbating but I don’t care. Alex needs this. I need this!
“Am I doing good baby?” I gasp. “Aww fuck mom!” he says barely above a whisper. My hand is gliding along his length quicker as his breathing becomes labored. “Are you sure you want me doing this?” I ask already knowing his answer. “Ahh yeah-yeah!” The head of my boys dick is turning slightly purple and his hips are beginning to thrust against my hand. I’ve gotten enough men off to know that this won’t take too long. My swirling fingertips are pushing me closer to my own orgasm. The little voice of reason is shouting at me, “This is your teen son!” But it’s distant now and overwhelmed by a chorus of sexual demons egging me on. The fact that I pushed the young man I’m currently jerking off out from between my legs sixteen years ago makes this even hotter.
I savor every second of the following minutes giving myself and my son as much pleasure as my skilled hands can provide. We’re both grunting now, lost in pleasure as we drive towards our climaxes. My middle finger delves up into me the bikini bottom is pushed aside. What happens after this is irrelevant. All that matters now is satisfying our mutual desires. Alex is fucking my hand now as much as me jerking him off. “Oh fuck!, Oh fuck!” he chants.
“Uh!! I’m gunna..” This is it. With my cheek resting against my son’s shoulder, I see his thrusts become erratic as I pump his magnificent teen cock. He grunts and a thick rope of milky boy-cum shoots from him splattering against the shower wall. He rears back and another comes forth then several more follow of smaller quantity and force. I’m so focused on him that my own orgasm blindsides me. I bite into his deltoid and let out a guttural groan creaming into my rapid finger fuck. A mother and son naked and nearly naked cuming together. It’s taboo, wrong, illegal, but I don’t give a shit. I love this! I’m grinding against my boy ringing out the pleasurable waves emanating from my cunt. Still cupping his deflating penis, I press against him enjoying every bit of contact between us before this ends.
But it does eventually end. We’re both catching our breath. I look up and he’s staring at me, a look of satisfaction and mild shock on his innocent teen face. Alex looks down and I realize my hand is still clamped against my pussy, a finger lodged up inside my canal. Embarrassed, I withdraw it quickly re-covering my dripping housemom snatch. He looks away embarrassed himself. “Yeah Cassandra, you did it you slut. What are you going to do now?” my reasserted conscious asks. I inhale deeply and let out a long satisfied breath. “Okay sweetheart.” Turning the water back on I hose off the wall, my sons crotch, then step behind him to quickly tuck the shower head under the swimsuit rinsing myself out.
Outside the shower I dry and dress him in silence, neither of us making eye contact. Then send him down to the kitchen while I switch into underwear and my tight fitting, knee length silk bathrobe forgoing the usual baggy flannel one. As I make breakfast, I steal glances his way. He sits at the kitchen table, eyes glued to my every movement with a soft look of love on his face. But it’s not a look that a loving son has for his mother. It’s a look I’ve seen before on men that I have slept with. A look of satisfied carnal intimacy. I’ve no doubt crossed a line. I’ve done something I’ll never be able to take back even if I wanted to. From now on my son will not just see me as “Mom” but one of his sexual partners. This is something he’ll never forget.
A growing anxiety bordering on panic comes over me as we eat. “What do you have planned for today?” I ask like it’s just another day and I didn’t get both of us off 30 minutes ago. My beautiful boy looks into my eyes, a soft satisfied look on his face, his hair still damp against his head. He says nothing for a moment studying my face like we just met. “Thanks mom, that was… Good.” “Anytime baby” I manage to croak out immediately realizing that implies it will happen again.