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Amanda Redpath knocked on her son’s bedroom door. She had made him a special birthday breakfast just the way he liked it. Bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, the boy certainly did eat a lot. Bu she had wanted to make his eighteenth birthday special. With everything she had planned he would need to keep his strength up. There was a long day ahead.
Except there was no answer.
She knocked again louder this time.
Still no answer.
“Aidan? Aidan honey? Time to wake up!”
She sighed. Her boy was probably asleep or listening to music. He always had it up too loud. They had bought him a pair of headphones last year. Now he could not hear anyone who came to the door or the phone. Not wanting his special day to be ruined she balanced the tray on one hip of her jeans. She clicked open the door with her free hand.
What she saw almost made her drop the tray. The apple of her eye was laying back on his bed, his smooth strong body arched in pleasure. His muscles were straining beneath his skin. His head was thrown back and his eyes closed. His hair was plastered to his forehead. His whole body was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. His legs were spread wide, the one closest her curled up at the knee. His swimmer’s body was practically hairless apart from a small patch of light brown curls at his groin. The curls framed his chunky cockmeat. His heavy hairless balls were pulled up tightly between his spread thighs. She could just see the crack of the base of his ass from where she stood.
Amada took in a sharp breath. She swallowed. The room felt hot. She could not believe what she was seeing.
“Aidan. Aidan!” She called, ashamed at the slight note of desire that cracked her voice. Still he did not respond. He was wearing his headphones. She crossed to the music centre in the corner of the room. She tried to keep her eyes on the wall. They kept creeping back to the lewd sight on the bed.
“My word he has a thick one!” She could not help but think. Her hand found the off button in the half light. The stereo clicked quiet. Whatever music had driven him to this performance died in his ears. He moaned. Sat up and opened his eyes. A shocked look crossed his face as he saw her standing there. His strong Adam’s apple twitched as he gulped. His one hand went from gripping his cock to covering it. The other stopped his languid playing with his nipple and sought the sheet. Before he found it the young mother got a good look at how her son had grown. It really was quite amazing that just a couple minutes before she had thought of him as a boy. Now she saw him in a different light. Whatever other thoughts ran through her head she could see that he was all man.
“M-mum!” His voice quivered. She noted how his normally light voice was deep and husky with passion. “I-i erm didn’t hear you come in!” He stammered.
“Yes but I almost saw you cummin…” She thought and giggled to herself. There was always a light voice at the back of Amanda’s mind, a memory of who she had once been. Now though she was a housewife. Mother to the boy… the MAN on the bed in front of her. He had found the sheet now and drawn it up over him. He relaxed a little. The shape of his turgid organ was still visible beneath the fabric. It was not so easy for them to lose an erection at his age, she recalled.
“Obviously.” Was what she really said. “Must have been some good music.”
He coughed in reply. “Yeah. I guess I got a little carried away with it.”
As they talked she moved to the side of the bed and set the tray down. “Well I brought you breakfast. Using up all that energy must mean you have a big appetite.” She smiled down at him. Her hair had fallen across her eyes.
“If not then you soon will be if you’re anything like your father!” That voice again. She would have to learn to control it. It got her into trouble all too often these days. Certainly it was the kind of trouble she enjoyed with her husband. He could be a really sexy man once he let himself go. It was not the kind of trouble she wanted with her son, or any other man. Not now that she was happily married and had been for twenty years.
Her son’s lips quirked and he smiled. He had such a lovely smile. Big blue eyes and sharp white teeth. It should have been predatory if it was not so innocent. “Yeah I… it does make me hungry when I…” He stopped himself, blushing and looking away.
“Yes that’s a common thing. Most people want pizza. Maybe you can have some of that later. It’s your birthday after all. You can have anything you want… within reason. I hope I can tempt you with something else equally unheathy.”
Picking up the jug of syrup she slowly poured it over the pancakes. He looked back at the sound. His face was uncertain now. She could read him like a book. The thick liquid drizzled from the neck of the jug. It fell slowly through the air, glimmering in the morning light. It ran thickly across the sweet tasty pancakes. It pooled and settled in place. It dribbled from the edges. şişli escort
Amanda set it down. Some of the liquid had run across her hand. She could feel it about to drip onto the carpet. She lifted her fingers to her lips. She licked off the sweet tasty substance. Her tongue worked around her fingers. A strong memory came back to her, teasing her mind. She did not work out what it was for a second. It was as though someone else in her mind did not want her to remember. Then she had a vision of licking thick inky ribbons of sperm from her husband’s still thrusting cock. It was her turn to feel her cheeks warm. She snatched her hand away.
“Yeah they look good mum.” He smiled. She could not help but wonder if he meant the pancakes or whether his eyes had strayed to her tits. They certainly seemed to have. She was all too aware of the fact that her t-shirt was far too tight these days. It clung to her. Especially now that she was perspiring slight. The room was warm. Her blood pressure had not been helped by the strange sight just minutes ago. All that plus… well that would be another surprise for later. She looked down at herself. Her two mounds were rather prominent beneath the thin white material. She had not worn a bra that morning. Her nipples were dark, slightly visible in the soft light from the window. Her boobs were firm and widely spaced. She had never been huge, just a B cup. These days she was upping that to a C though. She had gone from a comfortable 36 to a rather loose 38. Her husband loved them.
She was snapped out of her reverie by his next words. “I can’t wait to eat them!”
“I bet you can’t! But you’re not having them.” She coughed and looked away, her dark hair tickling her flushed cheeks.
“Why not mum?” He asked enquiringly.
“Well…” She tried to recover. He had been talking about the pancakes that were now covered in rapidly cooling syrup. Not her mammaries. She hoped. The voice in her head provided the words. “Look Aidan, if you want to finish what you were doing first then I totally understand. I can take this downstairs and keep it warm for you. It’s your birthday and you’re a man now, that much is obvious. You have your needs. I respect that. I’m your mum but I was young once too.” She smiled at him and brought her arms up over her chest. Her t-shirt rose and she felt the cool air on her softly rounded belly.The memory of his cock and the dirtily delicious conversation had left her all flustered. She could feel a certain dampness in her panties. It was warm and welcoming. Familiar and normally fabulous. It was a traitorous horrible thing.
“That would be great mum, but I really am hungry. I could eat and then finish up afterwards if I still want to.”
“Oh you’ll still want to.” The voice said. “I know men your age. Totally insatiable.” And then the voice moaned softly. Amanda tried to ignore it. She could not help but agree. It was her own thoughts afterall. Even if it was a struggle to deal with their implicatrions.
He reached out his hand and touched her on the arm. “Besides I’d like to spend some time with you, mum.” He smiled up from the bed. He was a picture. His hair was still glued to his forehead with the sweat of his earlier exertions. His eyes were hopeful. His mouth warm and gentle. His chin soft and yet strong. He was such a handsome young man. A copy of his father in every way. Well, perhaps not EVERY way. There were some differences as she now knew. She could see those differences in the shade of that sheet that had fallen open ever so slightly.
“I’d like to spend the day with you too. But if you don’t want your old mum hanging around and spoiling things I totally understand.”
“You’re not old mum. Far from it. You’re very young and lovely. I can’t believe that you’re 38. Most of the guys at school have a crush on you. They say I’m lucky to have you as my mum.”
She laughed and ruffled his hair. The sheet stayed firmly pushed out from his belly. Amanda could not help but notice how the skin of his semi-hard penis tightened as she touched him. She caught a whiff of her own perfume at her movement. Maybe she should not have worn anything so sexy. It was her husband’s favorite. The one that made him totally randy. She had not given it any thought before she had come in here this morning.
“You have a really great body too mum. It’s better than some of the girls half your age.” He smiled wider now. His eyes trailed down across her form. They stopped at her boobs and he appeared to mentally heft them. Then they slid down over her waist to her hips.Brushed over her thighs. Stopped on her naked feet with their painted toenails. His gaze was certainly very sexy. That much she would admit.
“Why thank you.” She stammered in answer. It was not a compliment that she thought she would ever hear from her son’s mouth. She took it at face value though and cherished it. Her son needed more confidence in himself she knew. Despite being a great swimmer and a escort ankara funny man, an intelligent all-rounded, he still lacked a certain cockiness that would serve him well. She had been trying to help him a lot with that recently. She had been paying him a lot of compliments. The words came to her lips and slipped out before she could stop them. “You have a great body as well. Really trim and muscular.” Her hand reached out and brushed over the skin of her pectoral muscle. It was soft and covered in a gentle downy hair. The muscle beneath was warm. Amanda shivered and felt Aidan respond in kind.
“I’m lucky to have you as a son.”
“I’m lucky to have you as a mother!”
Her traitorous hand had somehow found its way to the place between his pectorals. She could feel the sweat on his body now. She gulped. “And you need a shower when you finish eating.”
He looked up at her and laughed. “I do not! I had one last night. I’m excited mum. I want to get on with my day! It’s my birthday remember. You said I can have anything I want. I want not to have to shower today.” There was a touch of his troublesome petulance there.
A deliciously naughty thought raised in her. She would get him to have a shower alright. She was his mother after all. She knew that though Aidan got bored of showering every morning and night, he also hated being overly dirty. He was at heart a clean and tidy man.
Lightning fast she had some of the syrup on her fingers. She rubbed it across his chest before his powerful hand could stop her. The thick sugary liquid shimmered on his young skin.
“Well don’t you look a picture!” She laughed. She felt some of the rough and tumble of mother and son come back into their conversation. Just like when they used to have mud fights in the back garden. Or water fights at the pool.
“Oh yeah?” His voice was a challenge now. “Well…” Now she was the defender and her the attacker. He smeared some of the liquid from the plate over her bare midriff. Some of it got on the bottom of her too-short t-shirt. Some of it got on the waistband of her jeans. It was sticky and pleasant and warm. She grabbed his arm. He used the grip to pull her toward him on the bed. She stumbled. Her knees encountered the edge of the bed. It was soft but the movement catapulted her forward. The sheet had fallen to one side forgotten now. Her head was descending toward his groin. His erection was stood up plum in front of her. If she did not stop herself she would land heavily with her face on it.
Her hand slapped down into the breakfast tray, sending eggs everywhere. They splattered across the sheets and up her arm. Her hair fell over her eyes. She could no longer see her son’s pride.
“Oh shit! Mum I’m sorry…”
“Sorry is it? Sorry?” She puffed breath and she righted herself. “I’ll make you sorry. I’ll make you a very sorry young man.” Her arm swept across her face, pushing back her hair. Her heart was hammering. She was nervous and excited. Some of that was being turned on at the proximity of his daring young body.
Her hand shot out again. The sticky smeary egg mixture joined the syrup on his chest. She smeared it about, determined to get a good coverage. Her fingers brushed over his pink nipples. He struggled some at that but did not fight her. He knew he needed to take his punishment. When she was finished his chest and stomach were a mess of sticky golden syrup and gooey egg. The paste had still been warm from the cooking. It was warmer still as the frenzied mother brushed it over him to make him all dirty and messy. She loved doing it too. Despite herself it was a delicious experience made all the more enjoyable by the forbidden nature of it. She wanted to go lower, to grab his now rampant cock and cover that with the sticky juices too. She stopped herself with great effort.Pulled away. Told the naughty voice that made her do these things to get back in the box.
“There. Now I bet you’re sorry.” She said in between gasps.
“Actually…” He leaned back, his voice equally breathless, equally husky. His legs were spread wide. His thighs were around her knees, calves next to hers, feet outside hers on the wooden floor. His cock stood up at attention like a good little guardsman, all head and body with no shoulders. It’s pink helmet was visible with tight foreskin drawn back to reveal the delicious pattern of veins. “I think you missed a spot.” He wiggled his hips. His dickmeat swayed obscenely. She could feel her mouth fill with drool at this sight. She loved young powerful men. She always had. They did not appear to come any more powerful than her son when he got going.
The moment was broken. He turned away, drawing his legs up to his chest. His thighs curved powerfully as though he was about to take a dive. “I’m sorry mum. There’s… I get this voice in my head sometimes. It makes me say or think funny things.”
She felt her eyes widen in the shock that ran through her. “I…”
“That sounds ankara escor stupid I know.”
“No… Aidan no. I totally understand. I have a similar voice. I think we all do.”
He lowered his feet to the floor again. His erection was wilting. It looked cute in the half dark of the room. It lay back against the soft pattern of his pubic hair like a man resting in a deckchair. “You do?”
“So what do you do about it mum?”
“Well since it’s part of me I listen to it. Sometimes I act on it and sometimes not. It’s just part of my personality. A risky adventuous part. A part that I can encompass but not always embrace.” She had never spoken about this aloud before. Now that she was her words ran so easily together. “Mine is a younger version of me from my carefree days. When I was your age. How about yours?”
“Mine’s an older version. Maybe what I will be like when I’m your age. I hope that some day I learn to control it. It’s disturbing. I’d like to be as confident as it but it wants me to take risks. Do odd things.”
“Really? What does it say to do now?”
He blushed and looked her up and down again. His eyes were hot. His cock stirred back into straightness. He looked away. “Nothing. What does yours say?”
“Never leave a job undone.” The voice whispered to her. “That it’s bad to leave something half done.” She said grinning.
“What do you mean?” He was looking again now. His face was all embarrassed expectation.
“Well…” She began to finish what she had started. Her hand found the plate again. She slowly mixed the mess of eggs and bacon grease and sticky syrup until it was a gooey paste. Her son shivered as he watched her. She delighted in teasing him and making him wait. It was wonderful to be able to play with him like that. Slowly she ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them. Other parts of her were already plenty moist in anticipation. Kneeling up on the bed she straddled one of his thighs and lowered her head. Her hair fell across her face blocking everything from view but his hips and thighs and the delights between.
Amanda began to finish the job she had started. She began with his naked hips. She rubbed and caressed the sharpness of his teenage bones. She enjoyed their curves and the muscles around. She moved her hands to the soft hairless skin of his groin, needing and pushing the slick mess around. She felt him shiver stronger the shaking of his young body constant now. Still she toyed and played with him. He was of course arching erect at her ministrations. His cock seemed to seek her out and beg to be touched. She laughed in pride and pleasure at this.
Her hands came together in the middle. She had reached the moment she was determined to enjoy.
His cock flesh was burning hot. It felt so sensitive and young under her touch. She did not grip it no matter how much she wanted to. She stroked it, bathing it in the stickiness of the remains of his breakfast. She enjoyed the big flared head. She caressed down the veins of his turgid shaft. She stroked the tight hairlessness of his perfectly big balls. She noted how, where his father was long he was instead gloriously thick. Amanda shivered and bent down. She knew her bottom would be in the air. Just the way her husband liked her. On her hands and knees with her rump tilted up for him. Except now this was her son. She wondered whether he was looking at her ass or the top of her head. He may even be laying back with his eyes closed. She doubted that though. Men were so visual.
She rolled his balls with her fingers. They got all sticky too. She longer to pop one into her mouth. That would be inappropriate wouldn’t it?
“But then doing any of this is inappropriate, Amanda dear. You just have to choose when to stop. I doubt he’ll complain!” The voice said.
Amanda had to agree. He would not complain. Today was his birthday. He could have anything he wanted. She wondered what his voice was telling him right now. Sometimes the strongest wish was that which was unspoken.
With great ease she rolled up from where she was kneeling, sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking back over her shoulder at him she could not help but be amazed. His face was a picture of pure agony and pleasure. His young body was strong and vibrant. He was covered with the dirty paste of his birthday breakfast. She did not think he had ever looked better. That any man had ever looked tastier. His strong pectorals were shivering with passion. His nipples were big and hard. His chest shook as he heaved in great big breaths. He had drawn up his legs and they were spread in gentle angles, ankles hanging off the edge of the bed.
“You know what else is bad?”
“No mum. What is?” He asked as though disappointed for her actions to be over.
“That I think we’re only half done with this job. It’s not really fair that you’re all covered in goo and I’m not.”
Gripping the edge of her t-shirt with both hands she drew it slowly up over her head. The room went dark and she felt the warm air on her skin. The supportive properties of the material gave way. She felt the new heaviness of her thirty-eight year old tits. Throwing the t-shirt into the corner of the room she stood, back still to him.
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