“Brad!”
“Brad! Are you listening to me?”
He was sitting there across from her at the kitchen table, newspaper pulled up over his face. His thick-rimmed glasses were peeking out over the top of the newspaper and his pudgy hands were gripping the side of that fucking inked up paper as if his life depended on it. Disgusting. He disgusted her with his balding, greasy head & fat protruding stomach. But when he was younger, on man, he was so hot. She remembered him taking charge and slamming her on the kitchen table and just having his way with her. Now he could barely get it up and if he could he had to take those stupid pills. Viagra? Is that what they are called? Pathetic. Plus, he was more interested in reading the stupid news now and watching ridiculous things like football on television rather than romancing the woman that he married.
“BRAD!!” she screamed it this time and slammed her hand down on the table.
“Yes, dear. Were you calling me?” Fuck. It didn’t even phase him like he is so clueless he didn’t even realize she was yelling at him. What a moron he had become. I don’t think it was Alzheimer’s. Just indifference. A boring aging man with only a fat stomach to show for all of the years he spent working and trying to support his family to make a living. Working at a job he hated, nonetheless, while his wife was left untouched and passionless.
I mean, if you were her, what the fuck would you do?
Exactly.
What any passionate woman would do.
Take a lover. Or two. Or three. Have them come over while dear old Brad is at work.
“Brad. Ryan is coming home tomorrow, remember? I want it to be special for him”
“Tomorrow? Oh, honey, but I go away on a business trip to an insurance convention. Are you sure it is tomorrow?”
“Yes. I’ve been telling you for weeks now that he is coming home from boot camp to spend some time with us before he goes off and does, whatever it is those military boys do” she giggled ferociously.
“I am sorry. I must have forgot. I cannot cancel this trip. These insurance sales meetings are so important”
Sigh. Typical. Forgetting his own son.
“That’s fine. I will make it special without you then”
He went back to reading his paper. Completely and utterly clueless. Vacuous. Overweight. Boring.
Brad left at the crack of dawn. He peck-kissed her good-bye and was off to his important, professional, suit and tie-guy meetings. Yawn.
She got up, made a lemon cheesecake with blackberries for her son. It was his favorite. He especially loved the texture of the cheesecake and occasionally loved whipped cream on top. Everything was prepared exactly the way she remembered him liking it.
She loved her son so much. He was just 19 and such a skinny young man. It was his decision to join the army. She could not wait to see him and wondered if he would be wearing those silly camouflage things the army boys wear.
DING DONG
Oh my gosh. Is that him? Would Ryan ring the doorbell?
She checked her watch. It was 12:30. He was scheduled to arrive between 12 and 1, so, yes, it most definitely could be her son, but, why on earth would he ring the bell?
She went to the door.
She opened it.
A man, not a boy, stood there in army fatigues.
“Can I help you?”
“Mom. It’s me.”
“Ryan?”
“Yes, mom. Of course. You only have one child, silly”
Mrs. Smiths blood began to boil. Standing in front of her was no scrawny 19-year-old boy. This was a man. And what a beautiful man he was. Oh my. Her palms became sweaty. Her heart was racing.
Ryan walked in, threw his pack on the bed, and took off his coat. He was wearing a tight army green t-shirt. Mrs. Smith could see the contours of his muscles underneath the shirt. Her palms became even more sweaty. The spot in between her legs that had been asleep for so long began to wake up
“I am going to go take a shower, Mom. I’ve been traveling all day”
He took his shirt off and threw it on top of his bag.
“Ryan. You are….”
“what, mom?”
“So….grown up”
“Bootcamp, Mom”
He walked over to her and kissed her on the mouth and hugged her. A peck kiss.
Just
A
Peck
Kiss.
His body was sculpted. Beautiful. Nothing like that blob of a husband of hers. Did Brad ever look like that? Like her Ryan looked right now? So toned and big and muscular? She couldn’t remember. She didn’t care. And, no, Ryan did not remind her of a younger Brad. Ryan was just, well, Ryan, but like a new-improved version of her son. The son that left for bootcamp and came back a man.
She heard the shower turn on.
“Hey, mom. I forgot to get a towel. Will you bring me one?”
Mrs. Smith grabbed a plush white towel out of the hall closet. She walked to the bathroom. Ryan had left the door unlocked. She pushed it open. She saw his silhouette behind the clear glass shower door. He must have the water on very hot because it was already beginning to get steamy in the room. She just stood there watching him wash his hard man-body through the glass door. He turned around and looked at her through the steam. She could not take her eyes off of him and his manliness. He opened the shower door. Soap was all over his body. They did not say a word. She devoured his muscular chest and arms with her eyes and then, ever so slowly, turned her eyes down to his pelvic area. He had soap in his hand and his hand was covering his genitals that he had just been washing.
“Move your hand” Mrs. Smith said. “I want to see what a big boy you have become”
He did not protest. He moved his hand, but just a bit.
Mrs. Smith moved in closer to look at her young son’s cock.
As she moved in closer, it got bigger.
She reached over and moved his hand completely out of the way.
“Oh, my. You have grown, now, haven’t you?” she said.
Her son’s cock had to be about 9 inches long and 3 or 4 inches thick. Oh god, it was beautiful.
She reached out and touched it.
Ryan did not say a word.
He was hard as a fucking rock.
Mrs Smith took the soap from her son[‘s hand and began to wash his pubic hair and hard cock.
Ryan did not say a word.
She took her dress off. She had no under garments on. She always wore dressed with nothing on underneath. Brad never noticed. He was too interested in the fucking newspaper and his ridiculous football games.
Mrs. Smith got in the shower with her son.
She continued to wash his body.
She leaned down and put her mouth on his cock. It pulsed as she closed her lips over it. She devoured that cock, like someone who has not had a meal in a very long time. She licked it up and down, and up and down over and over again.
Then she handed him the soap.
He knew exactly what to do. They had been doing this for years.
He took the soap and washed her body.
And then he got down on his knees in the shower.
“remember how mommy likes it”
“yes, mommy, I remember”
He then proceeded to lick her pussy so softly, so sweetly, exactly how she had taught him.
“Mmmm. Now that’s mommy’s good boy. Did you miss me?”
“Oh, mommy, I missed you so much”
He loved her succulent juices so much and loved the way it tasted when she finally exploded into his eager young mouth.
They got out of the shower. The room was like a regular steam bath by this point. She laid the towel down on the white tiled floor .
Son penetrated mother, fucking the shit out of her on the hard white tiled bathroom floor, while Brad sat in his white-starched shirt having the time of his life at the insurance sales convention.
