“OOHHH!” I gasped. My struggles to pull away turned to gentle embraces of his head. Greg’s injuries had led to his sexual inattention. We had started to have to make “special dates” to create any romance or attempt sex. There had been no spontaneity for almost six years. And, there was also always a tension because of the possibility Greg couldn’t perform (which was nine out of ten times). It made for an anxiety-filled time together instead of something to be anticipated and enjoyed.
Ronny’s spontaneity had jolted my system into responses I had forgotten. My body responded to each pressure and motion.
“You taste so good, Mom!” Ronny grunted before switching to the other nipple.
“You have to stop,” some motherly part of my brain said while the womanly part of my brain searched low until it found my son’s hard penis. I gently squeezed it and moved my hand rhythmically.
Ronny backed me toward the couch until I tumbled into a seated position. He kneeled between my parted thighs and hooked his hands behind my knees. With one upward push, he pinned my legs back onto my chest.
Then he dipped his head into my pubic hair, and I felt his tongue washing over my vagina.
“NOOOOO!” I screamed. He licked and nibbled and gulped at what must be flowing from me. Then he found my clitoris.”
“No, no, no, no!” I repeated like a prayer. It was an unanswered prayer because Ronny gently sucked that swollen bud of flesh. “AAAAHHHHHHH! NNNNAAA!” I cried.
His tongue went around and around, punctuated with long licks with the flat of his tongue.
“Oh my GOD! That’s it!” I felt a pressure, a fire that I thought had long been extinguished rekindled in me. It wouldn’t be long before—
That’s when Ronny stood up.
“Whaaa? Ronny?” I said in a haze.
“We shouldn’t waste this, Mom,” he said with a smug smile. “We’ll need it for tomorrow, when we make a baby together.”
He left the room, the one with his naked mother leaking her unfulfilled desires from her vagina.
*****************************
I looked at the bedside clock glowing at me every few minutes. This night was inching by. My body wouldn’t allow me to sleep.
How could it sleep after being raised to such a heated level and then left there. My butt, my breasts, and of course, my vagina throbbed and burned and ached. Ached for release.
“Damn you, Ronny,” I breathed. Then, another emotion kicked in: guilt. Here I was blaming my teenaged son when his mother, who should be old enough to know better, let everything get out of hand.
I turned over on my stomach, then turned onto my back. I turned the pillow over to the cool side. Nothing helped.
I kept thinking of the bathtub, then the kitchen, then the living room. All the thoughts and scenes. But, the one thing that kept leaping to the top of my watch list was Ronny’s penis. That big, hot, hard, delicious …. I had to stop thinking of it. But, it had been sooo long since I had a real virile cock in my hand. And his question to me about how it would feel inside of me. That outrageous question forced me again and again to imagine my own son’s penis invading his mother’s vagina.