Instruction

I laughed again and said, "No...just a couple of drinks before bed. Paul, what's wrong. What on earth did you dream about last night?"

My husband's face darkened and he shook his head. "Nothing." In a lower tone, he muttered, "Kind of a dirty dream, I reckon."

I scooted over a little closer to him and put my hand on his thigh. "Really? Tell me about it!"

Paul shook his head violently and then winced. "Don't remember much."

"Tell me whatever," I replied. "Was I in it?"

Paul hesitated but then nodded and said, "Yes," his face getting redder.

I wiggled excitedly and said, "What where we doing?"

"I don't um...remember," he muttered, looking down at his lap.

"Well, did you wake up horny?" I replied. Tugging up the hem of my gown to reveal a lacy pair of French-cut bikini panties, I said in a breathy voice, "I hear making love is a great cure for a hangover."

Paul looked at my crotch for a long moment and I wondered if he would crawl between my legs and at least look for sign of his son's semen dripping from me. I dropped a hand between his legs and searched for his penis, feeling disappointed as I found it limp and nearly lifeless. "C'mon, baby," I urged him in a breathy voice. "It's been a while, you know."

I leaned in close to kiss him, managing to brush his lips before he pulled out. I gently squeezed his cock through his pajamas and I could see in his eyes that he was thinking of John and me. For a moment, I thought I felt his cock come to life, but then to my disappointment, my husband removed my hand from his crotch, almost as if he were brushing a bug away. "C'mon, Cathy, let's be acting our age. Besides, I have a ten o'clock tee-off with the guys.

I sat back, feeling actually disappointed at being rejected yet again. "People our age do fuck, you know!" I said matter of factly.

Paul frowned at my language and said, "Not right now, honey. Not right now." He began to edge out of the bed, waving his hand and saying, "Maybe tonight...not right now. There's too much going on, you know." He beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom and the shower, leaving me to sigh with despair.

John didn't seemed surprised when he called me from the lab later on in the morning. "Sorry, Mom...we tried." He tried to be encouraging. "Maybe Dad just needs to think about things for a bit, that's all."

"Maybe," I replied. "I don't think anything has changed."

"Well, you still have me, Mom," John said in a suggestive voice. "You can have me and my mouth, fingers and cock anytime you want!"

I sighed happily and said, "Yes, I know and thank God for you, son!"

Indeed, thank God that I did have a son who lusted for me since my husband's desires seemed to have been banked. Other than give John odd stares that evening, Paul showed no outward signs of being affected by our naughty little "lesson." He spurned an offer to make love again that evening, claiming to have worn himself out playing golf earlier.

I did a slow burn as he fell asleep and finally slipped from our bed to find our son downstairs watching an old Marx Brothers' movie on television. As my husband snored in our bed and Groucho and company carried on their zany antics, I rode my son's face while sucking his cock, happy and grateful to have such a loving child. There might have been a tear or two of disappointment amidst the tears of soul rendering passion and ecstasy as I orgasmed from John's loving tongue, but I was already consigning my marriage to oblivion.

As weeks progressed, John's feelings for me grew even as I let him get inside my heart and soul more with each passing day. It both troubled me and thrilled me that my son was spending more time with me than with any of his young girlfriends. I encouraged him to date and fuck Kelly and others, but more and more, John lingered about the house during his free time, his need to fuck me becoming nearly as great as my need for his wonderful tongue and cock.

I also grew angrier at Paul. As we walked through the ashes of a marriage, now more roommates than anything, it pissed me off that he had spurned me so. True, I should have felt guilt for cuckolding him with our son, but it was something that would have been inevitable. Perhaps not with John...I knew that he'd seized the opportunity that his father had provided in his neglect, but I knew in my heart that sooner or later, my needs would have forced me to seek relief from someone. I was just thrilled that it was someone I already loved unreservedly.

I also found myself getting tired of "hiding" our incestuous love around the house. Many was the time that I fumed waiting for Paul to leave the house or go to sleep so I could fall into our son's arms and experience his lips, tongue, fingers and cock. A little over a year after I first experienced the sweet pleasure my son offered, there came a warm spring day – the kind that makes your pulse race with renewed sexual desire that I knew for an absolute certainty that it was time to for all of us to move on with our lives. It wasn't fair to me or to John and it wasn't fair to Paul. He needed to face the fact that we were done and perhaps in the freedom that it would produce, he would find his own happiness, perhaps with someone new or perhaps alone.

I had arrived home before either my son or husband and I waited for both in the den, a glass of brandy in my hand just as when this had begun, but this time, I'd barely taken a sip, determined to be sober when I took action.

It was nearly five o'clock and I expected Paul to walk through the door at any second when I heard a car pull into the driveway. With no signaling horn, I knew my son had arrived home first, just as I had hoped. He came through the front door, tossing a book bag onto the floor and called out, "Mom....I'm home!"

"In here, baby," I called softly climbing to my feet. John came bounding into the den, pulling up short as he took in my appearance. I was dressed in a new outfit I'd bought a few days before.

John gave me a long once over and then let loose with a wolf whistle. I was wearing a strapless sundress with a thigh high hem. The neckline plunged in a sharp square shape, exposing my upper chest and the upper halves of my breasts. I had on three inch stiletto heels that accentuated my legs, making my calves appear even more toned and shapely. "Mom, you look gorgeous."

I grinned wickedly and began to slowly walk towards him. "Hot enough to make that big dick of yours stand up long and hard?"

John nodded and rubbing his crotch through his jeans, replied, "On your worst day, you'd make my cock hard, Mom!" I stepped into my son's arms and kissed him as I brushed his hand aside and began rubbing my palm up and down his crotch, thrilled to feel his penis grow and lengthen as our tongues darted and danced as we kissed.

I moaned appreciatively into John's mouth as I undid his belt and then deftly opened his jeans, allowing my hand to snake down under his underwear to wrap around his cock. I was pleased at how deftly I had gotten to my son's cock...months of practice paying off. Breaking the kiss, but with our lips hovering against each other, nearly brushing each other's mouths, I breathed huskily, "I want to suck your cock, son. Momma's hungry!"

I began pushing him backwards towards the sofa where he'd first gone down on me, ignoring his laughing protests that "Dad will be home soon, you know."

I shoved John down on the couch and squatted down between his legs, hissing, "I don't fucking much care, baby. I want to suck my son's cock now!" Roughly, I yanked at his jeans, pushing them and his sneakers off and tossing them helter-skelter behind me. My hand wrapped around my son's long, hard and thick penis as I said in a voice thick with desire, "I want to suck your cock, son and then I want you to cum on my face!"

With John's mild protests about his father coming home ringing in my ears, I wrapped my lips around the swollen head of his cock and rolled my tongue over the firm, but sponge-like flesh. I moaned approvingly as I tasted drops of precum oozing from his pee slit while my son moaned and reached out to run his fingers through my short, black hair.

The next several minutes passed in a lust induced fog as I showed off my newly learned cock sucking skills, marveling how at nearly forty-eight years old, I could deep-throat my son's big, long cock with relative ease. My eyes never left John's face, his eyes gleaming with love, desire and appreciation for his mother's loving and very personal attention. I reveled in the feel of my tongue rolling up and down his long, hard shaft and how his plum sized crown tasted so delicious as I whirled my tongue slowly around it. I took all of him inside my mouth and throat, air whistling shrilly through my nose as I swallowed all of him, inhaling the aroma of his crotch – sweat, sperm, piss and the pheromones of a horny young man.

Beneath my short skirt, riding high around my hips, I could feel the gusset of my slinky G-string becoming sopping wet as my own arousal grew with intensity. My ears were open, wondering how long it would be before I would hear the dripping of my own juices from my sodden panties. "Mom...this is...you're mouth is so fucking awesome!" John moaned again and again as I studiously sucked his cock, wary for any signs of his orgasm...slowing down whenever I thought he was nearing an explosion.

Then we both heard it – two short blasts of a car's horn and then John was laughing and serious at the same time, gasping, "Mom...it's Dad! Dad's home and he's gonna catch us!" His hands pushed at my head, but I was resolute and clamped my lips tight around his cock, brushing his flesh ever so carefully with my teeth to urge him to stop and subtly shaking my head to indicate that I didn't want or intended to stop.

So, that's how Paul found us, my husband coming through the front door and hearing noise in the den, following it to discover his son sitting on the couch, naked from the waist down with his wife's lips around the long, hard dick of their son. I was aware of him standing there in the doorway, turning my gaze from my son's stunned face to see Paul standing there gawping at us. I made sure that we made eye contact before I wordlessly returned to feverishly sucking John's cock, pointedly ignoring my husband for the present moment.

It was only when Paul took a step forward and bellowed, "What the hell is going on here?" that I paused and let our son's erect penis slip from between my lips.

"Exactly what it looks like, Paul," I said so vehemently that it checked his advance into the room. "I'm sucking our son's big, wonderful cock. I'm going to lick and suck John's cock until he cums all over his mommy's face!"

My husband's eyes went wide and he began to move forward again, his fists clenching at his sides as he said in a nearly a girlish squeak, "You fucking whore!"

I stopped him in his tracks with a finger pointed at him as I snapped back, "You're goddamn right, Paul. I'm John's whore and I love fucking and sucking him and him fucking and licking me and claiming me as his woman...something you don't know how to do anymore!"

My eyes on Paul, I ducked down and ran my tongue up the length of our son's cock as John muttered, "Fucking unbelievable, Mom." A quick glance at John revealed him smiling in disbelief at his mother in her rage and passion.

"I need a man to love me and fuck me and remind me every day that I'm a woman and you're just not up to the job, Paul so I belong to our son now. I'm his lover and whore and I love it!"

Paul worked up the nerve to take another step closer, his voice nearly strangled as he gasped, "I'll fucking kill the both of you!"

"You'll do no such fucking thing," I snarled. "You just stand there and watch how a man who loves his woman lets her suck his big dick." I resumed sucking John, never fearing for a moment that Paul would do anything other than watch us. I paused only for a moment to look at my husband one last time and say, "You can jack off if you like since I know watching me suck our son's cock makes you hard!"

John turned and looked at his father's crotch even as I resumed sucking his young and lovely penis, him laughing as he saw the tent rising in Paul's slacks. My husband moaned in a shamed voice, "It wasn't a goddamn dream."

I felt John's fingers running through my hair again, guiding me into a steady up and down movement on his erection, my lips slowly gliding around his pulsing shaft while my tongue rolled over his flesh hungrily. "Nope, it sure wasn't, Dad...it was us trying to work up some inspiration in you – to get you to treat Mom how she deserves, but it's your fucking loss, Dad." John's voice turned to iron as he said, "Mom belongs to me now, Dad. You'll never touch her again. I'm the only man who gets to fuck your wife!"

I convulsed with pleasure then, my cunt contracting in orgasm and then gushing pussy juice, flooding my panties and splattering loudly on the carpet as my son's words thrilled me – knowing that he had plainly claimed me as his own. I began sucking John harder, doing my best to reward him for challenging his father. I never felt more loved in my life.

My effort immediately paid off as John murmured, "I'm gonna cum, Mom!"

I let my son's cock slip from between my lips and I put my right hand around his long shaft and began stroking his saliva covered cock. "In my face, son! Cum in Mom's face and show your father how a real man cums!"

Paul and John both groaned simultaneously as my son's cock swelled in my hand and then began showering me in hot semen. Thick, steaming streamers of semen splattered against my face as John ejaculated again and again, splashing fresh sperm against my mouth and cheeks and forehead. I laughed crazily as I felt the warm, gooey fluid run down my face, my tongue searching for and scooping up globs of my son's sweet tasting spunk! As my son began to cum, so did his father, standing there shaking as a wet spot appeared in his slacks.

As John's ejaculations eased up – the last few splattering against the exposed portion of my chest and tickling down over and between my heaving breasts, I turned to look at my husband, proudly displaying a cum showered face as I exclaimed, "Now that's a man's cum, Paul! That's what a real man can inspire a woman to do. I dream of our son's cock and sperm day and night and he craves my pussy and mouth constantly! That's what I need, Paul...a man who loves to fuck me and give me his hot, delicious semen."

For emphasis, I brought both my hands to my face and brushed it over my skin to smear stringy gobs of semen over my mouth, hungrily and lewdly lapping it up from my palms and fingers while streamers of my son's seed dripped off my chin to splatter against my breasts, the whole time letting my husband see the fiery lust and love for John burn in my eyes.

The enormity of the moment almost overwhelmed me as I brought it to a finish. "I think we loved each other once, Paul," I began, my voice suddenly thick with emotion. "Maybe you still love me in your own way, but I need more...so much more than you can offer. You've made me feel bad about myself while our son makes me feel beautiful and sexy and desirable."

The room was thick with tension as a variety of emotions played across my husband's face. "You are still my wife, Cathy," he growled.

"In name only," I replied. "We've been roommates more than husband and wife for years...not even fuck buddies. I begged you for love...pleaded for it and you'd just tell me to act my age. Even when I do something crazy like setting it up so you might get inspired or at least jealous because of our son...you didn't follow up on the opportunity. I don't arouse you anymore...at least not unless you see me acting the slut with John."

I leaned against John's bare leg and shivered as he affectionately ran his fingers through my short, sweaty hair." I need more than you can offer me, Paul. I don't wish you any ill, but we're done. I belong to our son now...I'm his woman...his wife now." I raised my left hand, displaying my wedding ring smeared with John's seed and then worked it off my finger, our son's seed providing some lubrication to help it remove it once and forever.

I tossed it towards Paul even as I felt John move off the couch, his hands pushing me forward so that I had to shift to my hands and knees. "I fucking love you so much, Mom!" my son growled as I felt his hands pushing up my short dress and spreading my ass cheeks, and tugging my sopping wet G-string aside. I gasped as I felt his cock, still hard and big press against my cunt and then I gave a loud cry as John shoved his cock inside me.

"You fucking whore...I'll divorce you and expose what you are..." Paul snarled, but his voice lacked conviction.

"You'll do nothing of the sort, Dad," John said in a firm, calm voice, punctuated by his pelvis slapping against my ass as he speared me with his long cock again and again. "Mom's gonna divorce you quietly and you won't make a fuss. You know it and I know it." I didn't have to turn my head to see the sneer on his face...it was obvious in his voice. "You wouldn't ever be able to look anyone in this city in the eye again knowing that they know that your son stole your wife from you – that your son made your wife cum and moan like a whore when you couldn't get it up unless you were watching mother and son fuck." Our son drove his cock home and rolled his hips to make me scream to drive his point home.

Paul stood there, both appalled and aroused by what he was seeing. Struggling to speak between the explosions of carnal pleasure tearing me to pieces, I raised my hand and somehow moaned, "Our son is going to fuck me down here in the den for the next few hours. Stay and watch or leave, Paul, I don't care. You can stay in the guest room until we work things out, but when John and I go to bed tonight, I want your stuff out of the master bedroom. Our son is master now!"

"Oh yeah, Mom!" John laughed. "Tell Dad like it is!" I would have, but my son began banging me hard, fucking me fast and furious with that wonderful cock, showing his father one last time how to please a woman. As I screamed and clawed the carpet while John kept screwing me so masterfully, Paul stood and gazed at us in confused wonder for several minutes, but sometime between my first and second orgasm, he wandered off, leaving us to revel and lose ourselves in our incestuous delights.

Paul did stay for several nights in the guest room, usually gone before we rose in the morning and disappearing into his room in early evening, saying little to either of us. I know I should feel some shame and maybe even remorse at rubbing his face in his incestuous cuckolding with my nightly screams of orgasms, but I didn't. I could almost picture him, alone in the guest room, feverishly masturbating as he envisioned his wife and son locked in carnal lust.

The divorce, while a shock to all our friends and neighbors, was a quiet affair...granted for irreconcilable differences. I was generous in the settlement, keeping the house, but giving him almost all our savings and any possessions he wanted. Paul moved into an apartment downtown closer to his work, but within a year, requested and received a transfer to a city on the Eastern coast. I heard he remarried recently – a quiet woman he met in church. I hope he's happy. I hope for both their sakes that he learned how to make her happy.

John earned his doctorate and is moving steadily upwards in his department at the university where I still am the glue that holds the English department together and keeps it running smoothly. My son still lives at home with his mother, instructing me night and day in the art of making love and walking hand in hand with me in exploring the depths that a mother and son can share. At my son's insistence, we had a 'Vegas' wedding and I wear his wedding ring...a lovely gold thing with an Irish claddagh on it, symbolizing our love for each other. I insisted we have an open marriage, although I desire no other man and despite my age, John sees to have less and less interest in younger girls, although he still sees Kelly from time to time.