Truth or Dare

My son is getting older and he's getting other interests, going out with friends on the weekend, running around with a little blonde, and he's going away for college in just a few weeks! I want to show him that I am a hip mom, just as cool as any of his friends on his Facepage, so I convince him to play a game of "truth or dare" with me, just the way I learned how to play it with my sorority sisters.



We learn so much about each other. I get tired of playing truths, I already feel that I have confided in him a bit much, even confessing an affair that I had with his father! I choose "dare," and he asks me to call dad and tell him that the marriage is over. It's true that I confessed our marriage is in jeopardy, but oh my God, call him and end it? He's serious! I laugh and tell him, "you've got me, I can't do it." When my old college girls used to play Truth or Dare, if you couldn't do what was asked, you were to accept a punishment of the opponent's choice. I look at my son, what in the world will he make me do? I wonder if he'll tell me he won't do his chores, or maybe he's not going to watch "The Posh Life" with me. We always watch it, he hates the show, it's my favorite, but he keeps me company every Tuesday at 9 PM. I fold my arms, tired of him hemming and hawing, "what?"



"I want to see you in your underwear," Tyler says in his cute boyish voice.
"You've got to be kidding."
He tires of me explaining how I am an old woman, and what does he want to see his old mother in her underwear. He interrupts me, "you're a beautiful woman, and please, I just want to see." I try to hide my smile. It makes me feel so good, that's so shameful, I even feel the wetness trickle down my pussy and gather in the cotton gusset of my sexy lace panties. I bite my lip wondering if the smell of my sex is making him horny. I read online that the scent of a woman, is much like a wolf in heat, and it can bring out the primal, almost uncontrollable, animalistic side of men. But my boy?



I see him move his lips but my mind started to wonder, as it always does when I am under tremendous pressure. Jesus Christ. I'm going to do it.



I reveal myself to him, being sure to fold my clothes and place them on the table as he watches me casually, just as if I was making him dinner. I burn with excitement, embarrassment, and the shame of the truth, I enjoy showing him my gorgeous lace bra and panties. Hell, I even put them on with the intent of them showing through my sexy sweater. I want him to see me, and now I am even wetter, my nipples are hard. I bite my lip and wonder if I should lie, "it's cold in here." I say nothing.



Take off your underwear," he tells me.
My conscience takes over and screams at me, what are you doing? You know he is your son. Are you mental? You're a terrible mother, awful, disgusting pervert, YOU ARE A PERVERT! I tell him, "no, we're done here," I make certain that I use my most motherly voice so he knows I am just as serious as when he wrecked my car two years ago. This is wrong, he needs to know that it's over, and that's that. I walk away to the kitchen to put away our glasses and he comes up behind me and swings me around.



I feel my body pivot around to face him as if I am a doll. He stares into my eyes. "I'm not satisfied," he tells me in a voice that doesn't quite sound like his own. Oh dear reader, please know that I am a good mother! I went to every parent-teacher meeting, every field trip, and I even held slumber parties for his friends every couple of weeks in the Summertime. I have made this boy my entire life, and I am not sure why I am enjoying this, but God knows that I am ashamed. I want him. The smell of him when he is so close is driving me insane. I want to see his cock, I want to feel it in my mouth, I want him to cum inside of me. I promise you that I have tried to stifle these thoughts, but they come to me late in the night like beautiful nightmares, he is pumping in and out of me, and I am telling him I love him when he explodes in my, his mother's tight, soft pussy.



I let things happen. He is taking off my bra. My nipples are so hard, I silently beg him to suck them, and he knows me so well, my boy, he looked into my eyes and put them into his warm, wet mouth. He tossed me on the countertop as if I was light as a feather and he rubbed my wetness. I cried. I felt pleasure, I felt tremendous shame, and I was silent. "Beg for it," he told me. I was silently begging for him to fuck me, tears ran down my cheeks. "TELL ME YOU WANT IT," he nearly yelled at me. I whispered, "please, please, give it to me." He heard me but still, he persisted, "tell me you want it." "I want it." He fucked me and I orgasmed over and over. Will God forgive me if he knows I was ashamed? I tried not to moan, I put my hand over my own mouth. I can't let Tyler know I am screaming for him to fuck me harder, deeper, begging for his hot sperm to explode inside of me.



We came at the same time. I felt his hot cum run out of me and I caught my breath. He pulled me into him and looked into my eyes. His voice was serious and masculine, not like the sweet little boy that I raised to be polite and kind, "I will have you again." I subtly smiled. "Yes," I put my head down as I tried to hide my happiness...