What Michael Knows Ch. 03

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Present Day

“I have a question about Jacob and you.”

Stephanie Bell looked up from her tablet. A few minutes before on lazy weekend day, she escaped into a world of fantasy, shape-shifters, and sex via the latest novel from one of her favorite writers. It was roughly two weeks after Michael informed her he knew about her illicit affair with her first-born son, Jacob. More than that, Michael had made it clear he would be all too thrilled about the idea of also engaging in sex with his mother. The knowledge had shaken the mother with some confusing dreams since.

“I thought I told you that subject was off limits,” Stephanie said. And she had done so the next day, taking Michael aside and telling him that she didn’t want to speak another word about Jacob and the affair. Further, she angrily told him that he was not to touch and gawk at her like she was a common whore. Michael didn’t exactly agree to those terms, but she took his lack of arguing as a sign he would do as his mother told him.

That was until today. “Yeah, I’m tired of that,” he said, moving to sit down next to her on the couch. Outside, his father, Nathan, was mowing the lawn – a nice escape from all of the pressures at work he faced every April. Lyssa, Michael’s older sister, was working while Bella was laying in a nearby play-pen, enjoying the sounds and feel of the soft blocks with different textures that she was playing with.

“Too bad, son,” the mother told him. Stephanie tried to find her place in the story once more, but Michael insisted on her attention.

“How did it start?” he asked. “How did you guys go from normal mother/son to him being a motherfucker.”

She sharply slapped at his arm. “Watch your language, Michael!” She nodded Bella’s way, though the child was far too young to remember such vulgar remarks. More, she just wanted Michael to leave well enough alone.

But he didn’t. “Mom, you’ve essentially shot down my interest in you, but the least you could do for keeping your secret is answer a few of my questions. How did it start? How did this happen?”

When he said this, he gestured at Bella.

Stephanie sighed. Putting the tablet down, she looked outside and saw her husband. And then she started to explain to her son how she found out about Jacob and why his girlfriend suddenly broke up with him.

——————-

Winter Break, Over a Year Ago

“What do you mean Paula’s not coming?”

The cell phone sat on the counter as she chopped vegetables for the roast she was making for tonight’s dinner. She had specially got a roast a bit bigger than usual to feed not just her son, returning for his winter break from college, but also his new girlfriend, Paula.

For a few years now, she wondered if Jacob was gay. Not that there would be anything wrong with that! In fact, Stephanie tried to play the role of a super progressive parent who only wanted her child to be happy. She changed her profile picture during Pride Month to a rainbow with the words, “LGBTQ Ally.” She even openly argued on social media with her husband’s brother, who was big into his church’s Bible Study and felt gay people shouldn’t be able to adopt children. It wasn’t that she didn’t already feel that LGBTQ individuals should be treated like everyone else. But part of the reason she made a show of it was to help her son know that she was there for him if he decided to come out of the closet.

But he never did. Nor did he ever have a real girlfriend. She read about how some people were asexual and wondered if her son just simply had no interest having a romantic relationship with another person. She was far more terrified that he simply lacked the confidence to reach out.

That’s why she was so thrilled when he shyly admitted at Fall Break over a month before that he had been seeing this girl named Paula. Stephanie had to know everything.

Jacob and Paula met the previous spring in a class they shared. By sheer luck, they were part of a four-person group project and kept in touch throughout the summer, chatting on twitter and even texting from time-to-time. When school started back up, they hung out two or three times a week. And then it was nearly every day – even if it was just to catch lunch. Finally, probably tired that her hints weren’t being picked up on, she told him that she liked him. He said that he liked her as well. And just like that, at the age of nearly 20, he had his first serious girlfriend.

The girl even befriended Stephanie on Facebook around Thanksgiving, which was about the same time Jacob expressed an interest in inviting Paula to stay with them for some of winter break.

Her husband asked to see a picture of her so Jacob navigated to one he particularly liked and handed over his phone. Nathan slapped Jacob on the back and told him how proud he was of his son for attracting such a “hottie.” Both Stephanie and Jacob cringed at the term, though Nathan wasn’t wrong. Paula had long, dark hair that often was pulled back bahis firmalar─▒ in a ponytail or behind a hair clip. From the pics she shared on a variety of social media outlets, she carried a few extra pounds, but not in a bad way. She tweeted a lot about body positivity, which Stephanie respected. It helped that some of those extra pounds were located in a pair of large breasts – larger than Stephanie’s at that age before three pregnancies helped increase them. And she had, as Nathan told her privately, an ass that just doesn’t quit. That remark was in response to a picture from her Instagram. She was at a beach with friends and all five girls posed with their bodies turned away from the camera, but were looking back.

She elbowed her husband for his inappropriate remark and he laughed. “Seriously, look at that ass. Got two skinny, boney butts to both sides and then her thick and juicy behind in the middle. Guess our boy’s an ass man like his pop.”

That also earned an elbow.

But now, just a few hours before they were due back from college, Paula wasn’t coming along?

“What happened, Jacob?”

He took a moment before responding, “We decided to take a break.”

“What?” She had to put the knife down that she was using to chop up a few carrots. “Since when?”

“Since last night. We were hanging out and, well, things just went bad.”

The mother rolled her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” he appealed. “Things just spiraled out-of-control and I couldn’t stop them from getting worse. So, she’s not coming. I’m leaving right now, though.”

The mother let the conversation die and wished her son a safe drive back. With that finished, she brought Paula up on her Facebook. Still friends there. The girl rarely used Facebook – more of a Instagram and Twitter person. Checking those apps, she noticed nothing had been said about the “break.” She did mention how she couldn’t wait to see some friends back home, but nothing else of relevance.

Stephanie pushed herself to stay out of it, but after a couple of days of seeing her son mope around the house, she made the decision to try to help. After all, she told herself, her son was new at this relationship stuff. Maybe Stephanie could bridge the gap and get her son to realize what he did wrong. Nathan pleaded for her to stay out of it, but seeing her introverted and sensitive boy upset was difficult for Stephanie.

She read the message she sent to Paula five times just to be sure she was conveying exactly what she meant to.

“Paula, I know my son is an adult and that I should stay out of this, but because you are really his first real girlfriend, I figured maybe he needed a little extra help. Is there anything that I can do? Jacob really likes you and I was looking so forward to meeting you. If he hasn’t messed up too bad, maybe there is still hope here. Let me know if I can be of any assistance.”

As soon as she sent it, she immediately wanted to take it back. She knew she overstepped her bounds and Jacob would be furious with her. But only a few seconds after the message was sent, it was read by Paula. A few chat bubbles popped up and Stephanie waited patiently, but no response followed. The bubbles disappeared and Stephanie was left worrying if she simply did more damage than anything.

She was Christmas shopping with the family at the mall later that week when Paula finally responded.

“Mrs. bell I looked forward to meeting u 2 but Im not sure theres any hope for Jacob and me. Tbh, not sure I want to talk 2 him ever again. Found out some shit abt him that threw me 4 a loop. He got some mommy issues bad. Thought it was just weird we look alike but theres more 2 it than that. U may not want to read this story Im sending you. But u deserve to know abt it. Its abt a dude and his mom. Sorry we wont be making cookies together as planned. Hope u have a great xmas. Bye.”

Below the message was a icon for a document she could download. She saved it the cloud and went about the rest of her day.

With everything going on right before Christmas, the story became a distant thought for her until the night of her husband’s office party.

“…what secrets I must know about a woman’s body to get such a beautiful vixen to myself.” Stephanie smiled at her husband’s joke and curled up next to him as he drove them back. She felt warm – buzzed off the champagne. She rarely drank, but Nathan wanted her to let loose a little – “you deserve a night off!” – and offered to be the designated driver this time. And by her standards, she did let loose. She drank four times her usual one glass, danced with multiple people, and even let her husband feel her up in public.

She let her night of craziness continue as she snaked a hand between her husband’s thighs.

“Steph?” he whispered in surprise.

“Yes?” she replied, rubbing firmly against his crotch as he drove back. She couldn’t recall the last time she had done something this daring. Her sex was fairly satisfying, ka├žak iddaa but had grown largely predictable over two decades of marriage. She counted her blessings, though. Many of her friends had worse stories. Her husband still made her cum most times and made the effort to make her feel like he wanted her.

They came to a stop sign and he looked down at her hand. “I’m going to have to get you drunk more often,” he joked.

She laughed and resumed coaxing a hard-on from her husband. She felt his penis grow under her hand until she could make out the indention of his tool against his dress slacks. Curling her fingers around him, Stephanie stroked his dick slightly. The center console, which uncomfortably dug into her side, kept her from getting too close.

“You remember the Oldsmobile?” she said, her hand squeezing the tip of her husband’s cock.

“That ugly thing?” he said, laughing. “What on Earth made you think of that?”

“I just remember us in the front seat. It had none of this crap in the middle. I loved curling up next to you in the dark as you’d drive me back to my dorm or the apartment we had when I was pregnant with Jacob.” It was a different time then. Before her husband had a good job, he got from Point A to Point B in a ’93 Cutlass Ciera. It often broke down, but Stephanie had fond memories of the old girl.

“Haven’t thought about that piece of shit in years,” he replied.

“It wasn’t a piece of shit,” she hissed back, squeezing his cock harder. “I still think we conceived Jacob in it. Remember? At the lake?”

“If you say so.” He chuckled, looking her way for a moment.

“And I do. And, if you recall, it was much easier to give you road head in that wonderful car.”

They both laughed and she resumed a slow stroke of his cock through his pants as they neared their house. They quickly retired to their room once home, passing Jacob on the way. Nathan fingered her – a rarity – as they kissed. She went down on him – another rarity – before moving on top of him. She rode him slow as he played with her tits until he turned her over and fucked her harder. She came only seconds before he did, his cum rocketing into her hungry cunt.

Pushing much of he load into the toilet with a little effort, she prepped for bed. The buzz was beginning to fade, but the smile on the woman’s face that looked back at her made her feel good. Yeah, her husband wasn’t that adventurous in bed and the frequency of their sexual fun was decreasing, but she couldn’t complain.

She curled up beside him, wearing just a night shirt, but she had trouble sleeping. Usually, one orgasm satisfied her cravings. Not tonight, though. Tonight, Stephanie Ball wanted more. Her dwindling buzz must have been the reason. Or the shockingly good sex she had with her husband. Or her wandering hand in the car. Maybe even the thoughts of their younger days when they had sex all the time – more than a few times in that boxy Oldsmobile.

She contemplated waking him up and see if she could inspire his libido for a second round. Fat chance, Stephanie thought. She also thought of going to the living room and seeing if a trashy movie was on, but she’d probably be discovered and that would be tremendously embarrassing.

Instead, she grabbed her tablet. She was about to click on one of the Laurell K. Hamilton stories with all the sex in it. Or, as her husband put it, every damn one of them. For whatever reason, though, she paused and remembered Paula mentioning a story her son had written. Part of her brain – and her entire pussy – balked at her to ignore that until the morning and get off now, but even though she was still horny, she was also a worried mother. She had forgotten about the story once and didn’t want to do it again. The vision of passing Jacob when she arrived back home with her husband around an hour ago flashed through her mind. He looked so sad. So disappointed.

The story was saved to the cloud. The file name wasn’t noteworthy. Part of his efforts to hide this story was to make the filename sound like anything but what it actually was. But “Ch3Notes” was not points to remember from the third chapter of whatever textbook to whichever class.

She sat back and read the story. Things would never be the same.

—————

I Need You, Mom

By Jake B.

I couldn’t take it any longer. She couldn’t keep doing this to me. Something had to happen and I would have to be the one to make it happen.

She was doing the laundry when I found her that day. The short shorts rode up on her, revealing the bottom of her ass that I needed to touch. To kiss. To lick. It was summer so she paired the shorts with a pink tank-top. Visible were the white spaghetti straps of the bra underneath.

So many times, I found her this way. Doing the dishes. Maybe in the garden, dealing with the weeds. Every time, I fought against my impulse to take her. To touch her. To taste her and fuck her and have her cum on my cock. But I couldn’t that ka├žak bahis day. I couldn’t stop this avalanche of need. I had to have her and it could no longer wait.

She didn’t know I was there. She bent down, throwing some wet clothes into the dryer. That’s when I touched her, grabbing her hips as I moved my hard cock against her. She gasped in surprise and tried to move away, but I wouldn’t let her. Instead, I humped against her ass.

“What? What are you doing? Son?” She asked of me, but I was too far gone. I could no longer pretend like everything was okay. Like my mother wasn’t the sexiest woman I had ever seen. I let my grip move to her the top of her shorts, my fingers curling around the fabric as I moved my hard cock against her.

“You can’t do this, Jacob!”

“Watch me, Mom.” Part of me was loving this dry-fuck, loving the way my cock slammed against the crevice in her ass and then slid up.

Daring to remove my other hand from her waist, I slid my shorts and boxers to the floor in one quick action. Now, my tool could slide against her much easier. But the shorts were rough and if I’m being honest, I also didn’t risk everything just to rub against the fabric of her shorts. I was going to take my mom.

I tried to roughly pull the shorts down, but with her feet wide apart and the shorts buttoned, it proved unsuccessful. She tensed up as she felt my hands move around her hips, to the front. She pleaded for me to stop, but those pleas fell on deaf ears. Unbuttoning the shorts, I pushed them south. My mom was dressed in a tight, little white thong underneath the shorts. I probably leaked precum on her ass.

I could only get the shorts down to her thighs, but that was plenty for me.

“Fuck, Mom, you’re so sexy,”

“Honey, think about what you’re doing,” she said. “You do this and you can never go back.”

I smiled. “Worth it.”

She was still trying to move away, but her fighting became less frantic as she accepted her fate. Mom turned her head and for the first time, I did consider stopping this. There were tears on her face. But then her hips swayed as she tried to move away, her ass rubbing against my dick and my hesitation faded. Whatever happens, so be it. I needed this.

I spit in my head, trying to lube up my dick. Then, I moved my wet hand to her backside, pulling on the little string that rode through her ass crack. Pulling her thong to the side, I pushed forward, my dick rubbing against her pussy. She gasped and I gripped my tool, finding the opening of her vagina, and beginning to push.

“Oh, fuck!” we both said, nearly at the same time.

Mom added, “Just go slow. You’re much bigger than your father.”

I may have not followed every one of Mom’s wishes, but this one, I definitely could. Feeling her pussy open up reluctantly and accept my cock was a dream come true. She was so incredibly tight despite three kids and her age. Her pussy milked my cock, wanting my cum even if my Mom was fighting against this.

Finally, I had slid every inch home. My thighs were pressed against her.

“Oh, Mom, this feels so perfect.”

She didn’t answer me. Instead, her hands gripped the bottom of the opening for the dryer and raised her ass ever-so-slightly. I didn’t need the invitation, if it was one, but I was still happy to receive it. Grabbing her roughly by the hips, I reared back and drove home again. And again. Her ass rippled with every plunge forward as I fucked my mother in a long, deep strokes. Her pussy was getting more wet by the second as I sawed my cock back-and-forth.

For her part, Mom stopped talking. Stopped fighting completely. She just took it in an almost emotionless way. But the more I continued my assault, the more her body betrayed her. I felt her hips start to meet my thrusts. For several minutes as I slid every inch of my rock hard tool in her, she stayed quiet, but finally, she couldn’t hold back anymore. Small grunts led to louder moans.

“Yes, Mom!” I cried out, boldly slapping her ass. She yelped, but only slammed her hips back faster. I did it again, seeing my hand-print develop in red on the meaty cheek.

My orgasm was imminent. Part of me started to think about where I should cum. Maybe I would pull out and blow all over her ass, watching lines of cream run down her skin. Perhaps I would turn her around, moving her to the floor, and practically rip the tank top from her and pull her breasts out of the bra cups. Covering those huge breasts with my seed had long been a fantasy. Or, maybe, I would slide my dick, wet with her juices, into her mouth and have her swallow my load. I wanted all three.

But Mom made my decision for me in a way. She started to convulse and shake, her whole body seemingly moving like an electric current was going through her. Was she…?

“You cumming for me, Mom?” She wouldn’t answer or look at me. So, I got more forceful. “Tell me! TELL ME! Are you cumming like a slut on your son’s cock? SAY IT!”

“YES!” she cried out, her head again moving to the side to look back at me. This time, if she had any tears, they were from the intensity of our coupling. There was even a half-smile in there as she gulped air in. “KEEP FUCKING ME!!”

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