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…A full-length erotic novel by Nightwaves (lesbian, mother/son incest and more!)
Single mother, teenaged son and mom’s friend get what they need
Sylvia Anderson — age 38 — single mother of Neil, her only child.
Neil Anderson — age 18 — immature high school senior.
Roberta “Bobbie” Morgan — age 49 — Sylvia’s friend from the office.
A small, generic American city and outlying suburbs, sometime in the past.
Part One — The Trials of a Doting Mother
“Goddammit, son!” Sylvia Anderson pounded on the bathroom door. Her boy was, yet again, taking too long with his morning shower. “Will you finish up in there? I need to get to work and you have school!”
“Okay, Mom, okay!” He responded, his muffled voice echoing from the ceramic tiles. “Don’t flip out!”
“And leave me some hot water, for Christ’s sake!” She huffed, pulling her bathrobe tight around a pair of pert breasts, crossing her arms impatiently. The soft blue terrycloth rubbed against her nipples, making them tingle slightly, a sensation that didn’t go unnoticed. It reminded her of another irritant that vexed her existence.
God, I need to fuck. I need a man between my legs. I’ve needed that for years…a hungry mouth on my tits and a good, hard cock deep inside, pounding my pussy. I’m tired of masturbating myself to sleep every night.
As a divorcee and single mother for most of her son’s life, Sylvia had managed to keep her libido on a leash while Neil was growing up, instead concentrating on being a good mother. Recently, though, something had changed, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She thought that by growing older, her sex drive would be on the wane, but no. This spring especially, she became more and more agitated and desperate for some intense, straightforward fucking.
Sylvia tapped her slippered foot against the hardwood floor impatiently, about to yell at her boy again. Words thundered in her head.
C’mon, son, get your ass in gear!
After a brief, tumultuous marriage, Sylvia divorced her bed-hopping, Brylcreemed turd of a husband when her son was still in his crib. In short order, the bastard vanished without a trace. To his credit, he left behind a small suburban house, mortgage-free, and a modest savings account. She surmised ol’ Dan-O got himself in with the wrong type of people, and next thing he knew, he was part of the concrete foundation of the Glen Cove Shopping Mall.
But that was sheer conjecture.
Thankfully, the savings gave her enough time to use her high school diploma to find a secretarial job at a local legal firm. Things were tough at first, but Sylvia managed to survive, then thrive, getting promoted to a senior position at the office. By the time Neil went off to elementary school, things were okay, at least financially. After her lousy overall experience with Dan, the hit-or-miss nature of dating as a single woman didn’t appeal to her, so she remained celibate, a choice that had a definite downside.
One of the few things Dan did do right was fuck her for all she was worth, and it wasn’t just fucking. He had a knack for wearing her out and drawing out her sexual kinks all at the same time. That, in particular, she missed terribly. Mere masturbating hardly filled that particular void.
Now thirty-eight, Sylvia stood at around five and a half feet tall, and managed to retain an attractive figure without dieting. Pregnancy and motherhood gave her some extra stretch marks, and her nipples had become much more sensitive after her son was born and she started nursing, an after-effect with lingered on to this day, much to her delight. She loved to play with her breasts and nipples, especially late at night when she masturbated herself to sleep.
The years had also brought on a few bags and wrinkles, and a few streaks of grey highlighted her light brown hair. Sylvia made a choice not to color them away, choosing instead to accept the counsel of the years with dignity. She had a pretty, but unexceptional face, with a delicate nose, refined features, and hazel eyes, all accented by a pageboy haircut.
And yes, the carpet matched the curtains. She kept her thick, lustrous bush trimmed back somewhat, fantasizing that someday a man would gaze upon it. With those attributes, plus her lovely, C-cup breasts capped by dark areolas the size of silver dollars, she presented the vision of a desirable woman.
Her son was now eighteen, about to graduate from high school and, although she loved him dearly, Neil could be quite the adolescent dolt. Sylvia still had to berate him into cleaning up his room, doing chores, and keeping his grades up. At times, she felt like quite the stern taskmistress, but she didn’t want another Dan. She wanted to send an independent, confident young man out into the world, someone to solve the world’s problems, not cause them.
Also being self-aware to an extent, canlı bahis Sylvia attributed an overabundance of attention, her in essence compensating for the lack of a father, to him being the way he was. In the past few years, she had worked hard to curb that inclination. For her, parenting was a job far from being over.
He’s no longer a kid, dammit. He’s fully eighteen and must grow up!
In recent days, he’d developed yet another maddening habit, that of taking longer in the shower. Their home was ensconced in a sleepy, suburban neighborhood. However, it only had one bathroom, and both of them liked to shower in the morning. Neil had caused her to be late for work several times in the past month, and she was tired of explaining herself at the office.
“Neil, get out of there NOW!” She opened the bathroom door and was met with a cloud of steam. “And leave the shower on!”
“Gee, Mom!” He protested, reaching out from behind the shower curtain to grab a towel. “Don’t look!”
“Your privacy be damned! Get out of there!” She repeated, her voice sounding even louder in the close confines of the bathroom.
Quickly, he slipped out from behind the curtain and wrapped the towel around his nude, wet body. Although he was far from being a bodybuilder, Neil’s form had solidified in the past year or so, especially since he had become more active in sports at school. He stood just a shade under 6 feet tall, and clearly taller than his mother, with a darker shade of brown hair and piercing blue eyes.
Still, he could look like a gangly dork, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he became agitated, like now, as he scuttled past his angry mother.
“About damn time, son,” she said.
As she turned to close the door behind him, she caught a glimpse of his bare buttocks as he ran into the hallway to his bedroom. She hadn’t seen his butt in years and, although mildly shocked, the vision made her smile.
Heavens, that boy has a cute ass. I hope the girls at school appreciate it.
Dropping her robe to the bathroom floor, she stepped, nude, into the warm spray of the shower. Immediately, she noticed water sloshing around her feet.
What the hell is this? Is the drain clogged up again?
She reached down to the drain hole, which was protected by a fitted screen to catch hair or any other matter that would clog the pipes. Sylvia pushed her slender fingers into the cupped, metal screen, expecting a mass of hair. Instead, she dug out a big glop of goo. Rubbing the slimy substance between her fingers, she brought it up to her face. As a grown woman, she knew exactly was it was. Her nose crinkled in disgust.
Then she realized she was touching her son’s ejaculate! Her eyes popped open as she let out a low gasp. Surprised, she couldn’t stop staring at the sticky, pearlescent mass, only inches from her open lips. Her mind started racing.
God, that’s what keeps him in here! He must jack off every morning.
The mother part of her was disgusted by Neil relieving himself in the shower, but another part of her, the horny, single woman part that hadn’t seen, touched, tasted, or felt a man’s ejaculate in ages, couldn’t let go of it. The impulse to lick the boy’s goop from her fingers flashed through Sylvia’s brain. Her mouth watered involuntarily as she smacked her lips like an animal at feeding time.
Jesus, Neil dropped a big load this morning. So much come! He must be producing that stuff overtime at his age.
The next second, she snapped out of her trance, rinsing the sticky goo from her fingers and down the open drain, but the moment made her blush with shame.
Sylvia, what are you thinking? That’s your son!
She grabbed the yellow bar of Dial from the silver chrome soapdish, noticing Neil had left her another gift – a thick, long pubic hair! The combination of touching his ejaculate and seeing his pube on the soap flustered her even more. Still, she pushed forward.
Come on, girl! Time’s wasting away. Let’s go!
Sylvia rubbed the bar of soap all over her breasts, then working it to armpits, shoulders and all the outlying areas. Her eyes closed for a blissful moment.
Ahh, this water feels so good. I understand why Neil likes to linger here.
She imagined a man’s hands massaging rich, soapy lather all over her naked form. Then she rinsed away the residue, taking an inordinate amount of time on her breasts and vagina. Her erect nipples cried out to be tugged and sucked, her clit swollen and sensitive to her touch. She let out an extended sigh, disappointed that she had no time to masturbate. The brief fantasy left her aroused and frustrated. A minute later, she bolted out of the bathroom, naked, into the cool, dry air. She peeked out of her bedroom window to see her boy running for the schoolbus. The sight momentarily popped her back into mother mode.
By the skin of your teeth, son. When are you going to learn?
She finished bahis siteleri dressing, applying a bit of makeup and hastily brushing her hair. The next moment, her green Ford Falcon rumbled down the suburban street, headed for the boulevard which would take Sylvia downtown to her long-time job at Bradford and Associates.
Still aroused and distracted, she fought to concentrate on getting to work on time, and to not get into a fender bender in the heavy morning traffic. She rolled down the car window and pushed open the vent wing to blow the cool morning air on her face. Still, in her agitated state, the sight of her son’s bare ass, touching his come, not to mention his pubic hair, tormented her. She gripped the white plastic steering wheel, inwardly cursing herself.
Dammit, Sylvia! What’s wrong with you? Stop thinking about your son that way! He’s legally an adult, but he’s still your boy. Any way you cut it, that’s incest!
She made it to the office in the nick of time, plopping her purse on her desk. She smoothed her flowered skirt around her rump before sitting in the padded aluminum office chair. Wordlessly, Sylvia drew herself up to the grey metal desk and started fumbling through the papers stacked in her inbox. The papers wouldn’t shuffle to her satisfaction, and a couple of sheets slipped to the floor. She grunted with frustration.
Get your mind on work and stop thinking about sex!
Sylvia’s friend Bobbie had watched her since she blew through the door. The older, matronly woman walked over and picked up the errant papers. As she bent down, she flashed a deep valley of cleavage, barely concealing the large, succulent breasts quivering beneath her blouse. Uprighting herself, she slipped the papers back into Sylvia’s inbox.
“You okay, honey?” Bobbie asked.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s just that boy of mine can be a real handful.”
“I remember the feeling,” Bobbie said, rubbing her friend’s shoulder. “Sometimes I miss those crazy days.”
“Well, right now, I look forward to missing them.” Sylvia looked up to her friend’s smiling face, reaching back to squeeze Bobbie’s hand.
The two women had known each other for years and, while they weren’t necessarily intimate friends, they maintained a solid office camaraderie, sharing lunch on a regular basis, sometimes going out for drinks after work or to the movies on weekends. Bobbie, widowed years ago, hadn’t remarried, although her boy had grown up and flown from the nest, leaving her alone. With that background, girl talk and the usual office gossip, they had a lot in common to naturally draw them together.
Over the years, there were moments when Bobbie wanted to spill all of her secrets to Sylvia, to know her on a deeper level, but refrained. Sometimes she wondered why.
What does this young mother want to do with a fat, old widow like me?
“Want some coffee?” Bobbie asked.
“Oh, yes, please,” Sylvia responded, finally getting the papers spread out on her desk. Again, she looked up at her friend, her eyes almost pleading. “I really need some.”
Bobbie knew enough of Sylvia’s current life to go a step further. She had also noticed the change in her friend’s behavior, the increasing anxiety and frustration she experienced with everyday tasks, a particular condition that she herself had battled on and off for years.
I know what you really need, my love, and it’s not coffee.
When gazing at her friend’s face, Bobbie smiled not only with her mouth, but with her eyes. She admired how hard Sylvia worked and how she managed to succeed as a single mother, something Bobbie had already accomplished. She had sent her son out into the world and he had done nothing but make her proud.
Consciously or not, Bobbie looked forward to each workday morning when her friend would buzz into the office, often a hair before nine o’clock. She looked forward to their first exchange and glancing over to Sylvia’s desk during the course of the day to see how she was faring with the tedious legal paperwork they were dealt on a daily basis. All of this formed a bond between them that she didn’t fully realize.
“Back in a sec.” Bobbie moved down the hallway, her big, round ass swishing lazily from side to side.
With a supreme amount of effort, Sylvia managed to get through the morning, hacking away at the paper monster, delegating some of it to her subordinates, until everything was neatly filed away under typewritten labels. Still, at lunchtime she spent a few extra minutes in the bathroom to masturbate herself to completion. This was a relatively new routine, one that she had managed to refrain from for most of her time there, but things were changing. No longer could she wait for the night and her dark bedroom. She had to come so she could concentrate on the afternoon’s duties.
Waiting for silence and solitude in the ladies’ room, Sylvia went to work. One hand slipped underneath her old-fashioned bra while bahis şirketleri the other gyrated inside her lace panties until she quietly hissed through one climax, then another.
God, what a fucking slut I am. But oh, it feels sooo good.
She managed not to think of her son while playing with her clit, but it wasn’t easy. Glistening, bare buttocks quivered in her mental periphery.
Late that afternoon, she returned home, slipping the trusty Falcon into the dark, cramped garage. No matter what time of day or night, she turned on the headlights to gauge when to stop the car before hitting the old wooden worktable lining the far end. She watched in the rearview mirror as the automatic garage door slowly grinded shut behind her.
“Neil, I’m home!” She shouted as she walked into the kitchen, hanging her purse on a hook by the door. “I’m going to whip something up for us to eat.” Sylvia had cooled off by then, the noontime orgasm allowed her to blow off some steam, and she was fully in mother mode, ready to slip back into the family routine.
“Okay, Mom!” Her son responded from the living room. He was splayed out on the sofa, the green light from the television flickering on his face as he watched the evening news.
Sylvia removed her black pumps, scooting them against the wall underneath where her purse hung. She popped open the top two buttons on her blouse, giving her breasts room to breathe as she wound down from the day. Chicken would suffice for this late afternoon.
At the kitchen table, she watched her young man gnaw away at his Shake ‘n Bake chicken leg, feeling shame for ever thinking of him the way she did that morning.
“How was school today?” She asked, poking at a small mound of string beans, fresh from the can, on her plate.
“Oh, the same,” he responded perfunctorily. “Nothing exciting.”
“Are you working on your math grades?”
“Well?” She persisted
“Yes, Mom, yes!” Her son replied in a somewhat irritated tone. She looked over at him as he rolled his eyes.
“Jesus,” Neil said, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He took a sip of cold milk from a tall glass.
“I’ll worry about it if I want!” She responded. “I’m your mother and have that right!”
“Okay, Mom, okay,” her son smiled. “I won’t disappoint you.” He burrowed into another chicken leg.
After a quick cleanup, where Sylvia reminded her son how he needed to help with the dishes, they both retired to the living room. She had slipped out of her work clothes and into a relatively demure nightgown which stopped at her knees. She wore her terrycloth robe as well, depending on the time of year and the climate. This evening, her fingers nervously fidgeted along the robe’s wide sash as the morning’s naughty thoughts slid back into her mind.
Firmly ensconced on the big, overstuffed easy chair, she kept glancing over to her son on the sofa. In time, she stretched out her bare legs on the ottoman, trying to relax and concentrate on the television program.
Still, Sylvia’s mind remained distracted. She pondered over a better shower routine, so neither one of them would be rushing out of the house at the last minute. She was never an earlybird, and neither was her son. She thought about taking her shower at night, but was entrenched in her routine after so many years.
Then her thoughts returned to the gooey, sticky mass of Neil’s semen between her fingers and she blushed with shame. She looked over to her son for the hundredth time. He had changed into his well-worn house clothes, which most of the time consisted of a ragged, old tee-shirt and frayed athletic shorts that were a bit too small. She marveled at how much he’d grown in the past year or so, her eyes lingering on his still-boyish face, then down to his firm thighs and legs. Until now, she never noticed how those form-fitting shorts so perfectly outlined his genitalia.
Dammit, Sylvia, what are you doing? Stop!
She forced her eyes to stay glued to the television screen for the remainder of the evening, but the dirty thoughts remained. Ten o’clock rolled around and bedtime arrived. Drowsy and ready to sleep, Sylvia was also thankful she could finally stop eyeing her son, go to bed and take care of her needs.
I must get my mind off him. This isn’t right!
“Good night, Mom,” Neil said, jolting her out of her thoughts.
She looked up and realized he was standing over her. Sylvia turned her face up for a kiss. His lips felt so good against hers. She refrained from putting her arms around his waist as he bent down.
Stop it. Stop it!!!
“Good night, son,” she replied as he pulled away. As Neil shuffled off to his bedroom, she turned her head and shouted. “And make sure you get your ass in the shower earlier, or else!”
“Okay, okay.” His voice trailed off down the hallway.
Sylvia pulled her bedroom door just to, removing her robe and hanging it on the bedpost. She switched on the small lamp on the nightstand and, slipping under the bedclothes, propped her head on a fluffy pillow. Within the intimate yellow halo of the lamp, she grabbed a paperback romance novel from the nightstand.
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