Chapter Five: I realize I needed to understand Robert's motivation and desires better

It happens again the next morning.

I arose early, slipped out of bed without waking Robert. Silently, I went into the bathroom. I turned the water on, giving the hot water time to work its way through the pipes for my warm shower.

While waiting for the water to warm up, I stared into the mirror and assessed my thirty nine year old body. Objectively speaking, I was in excellent shape. My breasts were firm and perky, my waist was flat and small, and my hips and buttocks were in excellent proportion to the rest of me. Most people would have believed I was not yet thirty.

I reached down between my legs, squatting slightly and reached in to retrieve my diaphragm. As I pulled it free, a flood of semen mixed with my own juice spilled from my vagina in large globs that ran down my thighs. A few dollops of it spilled on to the floor between my ankles.

I tossed the diaphragm into the sink. I grabbed a tissue and wiped the globs of semen from the floor.

Up to that point, the events of the previous night seemed surreal and dreamlike. But here was irrefutable evidence dripping from me that yes, I had in fact allowed my stepson to enter me, and spill his seed deep inside me…..twice.

Rather repulsed by the gooey mess running down my thighs, I was intrigued by it, and somewhat amazed, at the sheer volume of his ejaculate. My young man had certainly pumped a full load inside me. It had been a long time since I had any man ejaculate inside me, but this seemed to be a much greater residual volume than I could ever remember before.

I reached down and scooped up two of the larger globs from my inner thigh on my finger tips, and I brought the spent semen up to my face to study it further. I held the semen under my nostrils, gently inhaling the scent; it was not at all unpleasant; on the contrary I enjoyed breathing in the aroma. I closed my eyes as I enjoyed my stepson’s most intimate fragrance.

I was reliving the experience through my sense of smell. I realized that very few stepmothers ever got to enjoy the scent of their stepson's semen. I guess that’s how it should be. Nonetheless, I was enjoying inhaling Robert’s scent for an extended moment.

The mirror was fogging up now, indicating that the hot water had arrived. I brought myself back to reality and stepped into the shower to wash away all the evidence of my crime; the physical evidence at least.

After washing and drying myself, I walking over to the sink and picked up the beige, concave rubber device that had been protecting my cervix from Robert's invading sperm. I washed my diaphragm, dried it, and placed it into its plastic container. I then placed the container and a tube of spermicidal jelly in my purse. I realized I needed to keep this handy and accessible while Robert was home for the summer.

I put on my make up, dressed and prepared to meet the day. I was early, it was not yet five forty five a.m.

I still had an hour before I needed to leave. So I sat at the kitchen table sipping my coffee, trying to make sense of the massive changes in my life and the events that caused them.

I could not make sense out of any of this. I alternated between gut wrenching guilt, a debilitating sense of anxiety and a level of excitement that I could not recall previously experiencing.

I heard Robert moving about. I looked up and saw him bounding down the stairs completely naked, his flaccid penis bobbing wildly in front of him. As he entered the kitchen he stopped and looked at me grinning.

“Well Willy, lookie who is here…..it’s Miss Cindy,” he said, referring to me by my first name in a show of familiarity that indicated a level of comfort with this situation that I had difficulty comprehending.

“Willy?” I questioned.

“Miss Cindy - or should I say Mom? - let me introduce you to my good friend Willy," as he motioned to his penis. “I actually think you two have already met,” he said coyly. “In fact, if I remember correctly, you two have become very close friends.”

My god, he was a confident and cocky bastard. He was his father’s son, no question about it. Almost on cue, Robert’s penis seemed to pulse upward as though it was a 'one eyed man' trying to look up at me during our ‘introduction’. As I watched, his penis pulsed and throbbed several times, each time growing slightly longer, thicker and stiffer.

When it was sticking straight out from his tight abdomen, about half erect, I said, “That is amazing. Is this going to happen every time you enter a room where I am?” 

 He was only partially erect yet it was already about six inches long and was hanging just south of horizontal. Even though he was only partially firm, my young lover had the start of a very impressive boner already.

“I think so mom,” Robert said confidently, pausing before continuing, I was more than a little distracted as I watched ‘Willy’ continued pulse as he grew erect before my very eyes.

“Willy is a lot like Pavlov’s dog. He starts salivating when he hears the bell ring. He is merely reacting to being in the presence of the most beautiful and sensual woman on the planet.”

“Oh my God,” was all I could utter. “You are a most amazing young man. Never have I seen anything like this. I have never known anyone like you. Your length, girth and ability to respond are like nothing I have ever seen before.”

I was genuinely astonished.

“I have never seen a man grow erect without physical contact. I didn't even know this was possible.”

Had I not witnessed it myself, I still would not believe it happened.

As strange as it might sound, I couldn't help but feel some level of pride in my stepson’s physical and sexual prowess. He was a remarkable specimen. At six foot, two inches, with broad shoulders and muscular chest, he had the physique that looked like he just stepped out of Greek mythology. And his penis was the most impressive male tool that I had ever seen.

In so many ways, Robert reminded me of his father, only Robert seemed to be more attracted to me and was far more smitten with me than Jim ever was. Robert's attentions were highly flattering. But perhaps the most flattering thing was the way his penis did, in fact, respond to my mere presence. Robert’s response to me was incredibly appealing to me.

I could feel myself grow wet as I watched my boy grow erect as a tribute to me! I knew I was falling in love with this young man in a deeply emotional way. I was on a very dangerous path.

I had never felt so desirable in my life. If this had been the neighbor’s nineteen year old son, I would have no conflict at all; I would simply think that every thirty nine year old woman needed a nineteen year old lover. However this wasn’t my neighbor's college aged son; this was my stepson. And I was deeply conflicted right now. I did not know what to do.

“What are you going to do with that thing now that you have him fully awake?”

“It is an offering to my goddess. It is an offering to you.”

He stood there proudly displaying himself.

“Robert, I have to go to work. I cannot stay home and play.”

“Mommy, you can’t leave me like this all day. Look at me. Look at our friend Willy. We need your immediate assistance, Miss Cindy. Please? We are both crazy about you.”

He looked at me with the biggest puppy dog eyes while sporting the biggest boner I had ever seen; the irony was obvious.

I sat staring for several seconds, contemplating my options here. How did my world change so dramatically and so quickly? How did I become responsible for Robert’s frequent boners and responsible for initiating his orgasms?

Finally, shaking my head in disbelief, I said simply, “Come here.”

He walked towards me, his erection swung side-to-side with each step. My god, he was a magnificent specimen, he was an Adonis, he was my Adonis. He stood in front of me, and I reached up and took his rigid tool in my fist, stroking him slightly.

“Before I assist you and ‘Willy’, tell me, have you been a good boy?”

“Oh, I have been a very good boy,” he answered in a feigned little boy voice.

“Yeah, what have you done that is so good? What have you done to earn my assistance that you claim to need so badly?”

He thought for a moment before answering, continuing to rock his hips to encourage my strokes. “Well, I gave my mommy an orgasm last night.”

“I am not sure that qualifies as ‘being good’, young man. It seems to me that you have been pretty bad lately. In fact, if I remember correctly, you tried to fuck me bareback, even though you knew I was not on the pill.”

“But I didn’t, did I? I was a good boy, wasn’t I?”

“Well, you sure did try to fuck me bareback; you tried real hard, didn’t you?”

He got serious for a second. “Mom, you have no idea how badly I wanted to enter you last night, here in the kitchen. You have no idea how hard that was.”

“Son, I am well aware how ‘hard it was’, it was pressing into my vagina as I convinced you to stop. In fact, you ‘poked your head in a bit’ before you stopped. You were well past the front door when I got you to slow down and reconsider. I just hope you didn’t leak any of your little 'spermies' into me. You could be one minor plumbing leak from having a brother and son in once fell swoop.”

I continued to stroke him, and he continued to rock his hips as we talked.

“Mom, I know. I know I was already in a bit. It was all I could do to keep from plunging into you. It was really tough for me to pull back and wait.”

“I know, Robert. But you must never do that.”

He nodded in agreement as he humped my fist.

I decided that Robert needed to articulate that fact. “Repeat after me ‘I will not try to fuck my mommy unprotected any more.’ Go ahead, let me hear you say it.”

Robert made an expression that indicated he thought this little exercise was silly. He seemed like he did not want to say those words. So I stopped stroking his erection for a second and waited.

Robert quickly relented and said, “I will not try to fuck my stepmom unprotected any more until she is on the pill, which she needs to take care of right away. I promise.”

“One more time…”

“I will not try to fuck my step mommy bareback any more until she is on the pill. I will not pump my stepmom’s pussy full of my potent cum….”

He just could not keep from ‘cracking wise’ with me, even on this subject.

The fact that he was obviously very proud of his virility and the 'potency of his semen' was not lost on me. I wondered if, on some level, he did actually want to impregnate me? I put that thought out of my mind momentarily, but made a mental note to get on the pill quickly as a preventative measure.

“Good boy.”

I brought his erection to my lips, kissed it several times, placed the tip of my tongue into the opening slit. A loud guttural moan escaped him as I tongued his slit which told me he liked the tip of my tongue probing his urethra. He liked it a lot.

I took him into my mouth and slowly brought him to a slow torrid orgasm. As he came, I continued to suck and swallow; I certainly did not need my stepson’s cum spots on my business suit. Beside, I had recently learned that I found the smell and taste of Robert’s semen enjoyable. Who ever would have guessed?

When I thought he was done ejaculating, I took him out of my mouth, but another small translucent white drop appeared on the tip of his glans, I leaned forward and licked it off, realizing that I truly enjoyed the taste of Robert’s semen. Swallowing him seemed the most natural thing in the world now.

“Thank you. I needed that.”

“I know you did, baby. Go get dressed, I have to go.”

I stood up and hugged him. I noticed that he made no attempt to kiss me. It was clear that having just cum in my mouth, he did not want a taste of his own medicine, so to speak. Men are strange animals indeed; they love to have us women ingest their semen, but they want no part of tasting their sperm themselves.

Moments later, as I walked out the door, I heard him say, “Mom, I love you so much.”

And I knew he really did. 

At the office...

I arrived at work, still aware of the very faint taste of Robert’s semen and uncertain what I should do, or what I could do with this emotionally and morally complicated mess in which I found myself. But my first step was to go to the ladies room to brush my teeth. As irrational as it might sound to you, I was fearful that the scent of Robert's semen might be detectable on my breath.

I was paranoid that someone would somehow instinctively uncover the truth and discover the horrific act I was committing. Part of me kept questioning whether or not I was truly the monster that society would label me if they only knew. Mothers do not sleep with their stepsons, ever. But I had done just that.

I did not fully understand how this all happened, although I felt very culpable. My childhood Catholic upbringing taught me plenty about guilt, as well as some about forgiveness. I was feeling an enormous burden of guilt, and I feared I could never be forgiven.

I could revisit the events leading up to this moment, but to what end? Yes, I should not have invaded his privacy the night I saw him first masturbating. And yes, I should never agreed to our mutual masturbation session, that was totally over the line. And I should never have allowed him to touch and taste me. Each mistake led to another. But I do not know how I could have prevented last night; Robert was intent on having me, with or without my diaphragm in place. I knew then as I know now, it was far better to agree to insert my diaphragm and allow my stepson to enter me, than to try to resist and risk having him take me without protection.

On the other hand, I was not a victim here. I did respond physically to Robert’s attentions, and I did respond emotionally as well. I responded in a profound and shattering manner. I should not have; I wish I had not, but I had.

So what now? The important thing was doing what was best for Robert. He seems to have no problem with the current arrangement. He seems to have no pangs of guilt. I needed to think more; I needed to have a serious discussion with Robert. I also needed to understand better what was really going inside Robert’s head. Then I thought, I do not even understand what is going on inside my head! I was totally confused.

Later that morning I called my ObGyn and got a prescription for birth control pills. I did not know what the future would hold, but it was clear that neither Robert nor I could be trusted to put these events in the past where they belong, and I knew that I did not have the physical or emotional strength to stop him from taking me whenever he chose. And I was not sure I could turn away from the pleasure my stepson gave me either.

When I picked up the prescription over lunch, the pharmacist reminded me to use another form of birth control for at least seven days after starting to take the pill. Note to self, keep diaphragm in place whenever there was any risk or potential.

Back in my office, I shut my door and sat silently, trying to sort things out. I needed to assess how this happened and what to do about it. Just how culpable was I? Did I do something that caused Robert to come on to me, or was I merely thrown into a difficult and unexpected situation to which I responded poorly? What exactly did I do to encourage Robert to feel so comfortable pushing the boundaries with me? When did I cross the line from being his mother to being a sexual target for him? How did this happen?

Wait, I realized, I was asking all the wrong questions. While understanding my level of culpability might lessen, or increase the level of guilt I was already feeling, it was not going to help me determine what I should be doing next? Unintentionally, I had crossed a line that should never have been crossed, actually several lines. On the other hand, Robert was of legal age, and he was a fully developed and mature man; at least physically he was.

And although I knew what Robert and I did was wrong by any measure, he did not think it was wrong; he thought it was one of the most beautiful encounters two people could experience. Was I really in a position to...