Fucking with my son

I just turned 42 years old and two years separated. I have two children, Pablo, 20, and Sofía, 16. With Gustavo, my ex-husband, we met in high school and started dating in fourth year. After graduating and at 20 years old, we got married very much in love, and so we stayed until three years ago when, due to economic problems that we had never had before, the relationship wore out and we decided to separate without stopping loving or appreciating each other as much as on the first day. It's more, in the last months every now and then we have sexual encounters where I pass (and we pass) 10 points. Unfortunately, at least for now, it's not the moment to be together again, although we've talked about it several times and the idea pleases both of us, and I suppose our children too... well, at least Pablo today I think not. Why? Without strong fights in between, Gustavo and I agreed to separate. From that moment on, we stopped having a fluid relationship, except for what concerns our children and economic pressures. At first, with him we never met up to take coffee somewhere or find each other at home for lunch or dinner as a family. Since the beginning of our separation, we prefer to do things this way because we thought it would be easier to endure. Eight months after separating, I felt like going out with a work colleague. Pintón, good guy, cheerful, Federico convinced me to go out on a Saturday night, first for drinks, then to the movies and finally to dinner. Or rather, almost last, because we ended up having sex in every corner of his apartment. The night went very well, I won't deny it. But it wasn't even close to the nights I had with Gustavo. I have no complaint about Federico, but my ex really knew how to make me feel like a god. He didn't lack imagination or power. For him, five, six or seven ejaculations in each fuck were like nothing was happening. It was evident, also in sex I missed him, but we had taken a decision that, no matter how hard it was, we should respect at least until both of us felt it was our moment. When Pablo saw me come back home on Sunday afternoon, he didn't take it well. Although he didn't make a scene, his bad face and attitude made it clear he wasn't in agreement with my departure, especially since those moments he had the hope that his parents would get back together again. As his stance seemed immovable, a few days later I decided to talk to him. He half-understood me, but I think more to leave me satisfied than for conviction of his own. And then I gave in: I wouldn't go out with anyone else until I saw what was going to happen definitively with Gustavo. He agreed and our relationship went back to its normal course, at least that's what I thought... I'm a woman with a good body. Not being a goddess, I very clearly am beautiful, even in person. brunette, with fair skin, maintained shape based on a healthy diet and gym exercises, which we go to with Sofía two or three times a week, on the street I don't stop getting looks from men whose ages range from 15 to 50 years old. Plus I like dressing well, without this meaning wearing brand-name clothes. No. Only well, with fashion clothes in line with my age, bright colors, shapes that accentuate my virtues and hide or make those characteristics that I don't like seem better, such as for example my breasts, which aren't enormous but rather small: they measure 85. Plus I'm a very hot cutie. I need sex. I love it. It drives me crazy. It gives me life. It rejuvenates me. With Gustavo I always had it, at any hour of the day and wherever we were. I don't know how I can stand those eight months until I open my legs with Federico. I think it was more like depression after separation that disguised the need for hormones. From when I talked to Pablo, I noticed him changed. The first few months I thought it was pure Enthusiasm from a hopeful boy who knew his mother was reserved only for his father. Very affectionate, companion, good vibes, attentive, seductive... Seductive? One day while I was in bed watching TV but actually thinking about the positive change of my son, that qualifying adjective crossed my mind: seductive. From then on, I became anxious and decided to pay more attention to his attitudes and see if he was or not correct. Then I realized certain new things in him: he often wore boxer shorts, and a thousand times hugged me when he was only wearing them. After showering, he would come out of the bathroom with a towel tied around his waist and always pass by mine, even if I was in the kitchen. He only made sure to do it if Sofia was at home. Flirtatious comments like you look so good, mom, wow, you've put on some nice pants, your legs are great, if you were the mother of a friend, oh God what wouldn't I do... Yes, he was obviously seducing me and I took months to realize it. And think that I believed his role as good boy from mom was due to his happiness at possibly seeing me again with his dad. It had been three months since I'd seen Federico. I needed action and only satisfied myself by masturbating anywhere in the house at any time, always except when the boys were around. Only in the shower or my bedroom at night did I do it even if they were there. And from the indignation I felt initially for seeing Pablo like this (I never dared to reprimand him out of shame) I started feeling a mix of indifference and curiosity. Indifference is not the word. Definitely not. It would be more fitting to say need. Which later turned into joy, anxiety, and vice. One night, after my sons had said goodnight to me and gone to bed, I surprised myself by masturbating while thinking first about my ex. In the movie-like montage that was playing in my mind, I was fully enjoying myself, getting wet, caressing... Breasts, my clitoris, the hole of my ass, I was sucking my fingers with my juices and thinking about Gustavo, until suddenly Gustavo wasn't Gustavo anymore, he was transforming into Pablo, like an erasure, the effect of the cinema, the image of Pablo was taking shape until it represented itself completely, vividly. He was kissing me, sucking me, touching me and putting his fingers and penis in me. I was sucking him, kissing him, caressing him, eating that cock that knew enormous from seeing its bulge in his underwear. I was at a level of heat of 100 percent and continued until I had a full, brutal, delirious orgasm that coincided with the image of my son pulling out his cock from my pussy and, kneeling on the bed, aiming it towards me so that his warm cum would fall on my mouth, face, breasts, and abdomen, at the same time as he was exploding in cries of pleasure to the limit. I left with a strange feeling. I was criticizing myself for thinking about my son making love to me, but I felt like I had enjoyed it immensely. Thinking, I found the answer to why, or at least that's what I thought. Pablo is very similar physically and in character to his father. Both have good physiques, are athletic, like doing sports, are identical in face, gesture similarly, speak very similarly, are both good people, handsome, amiable, affectionate, responsible... And thinking about them possessing me both, I found myself touching myself again, wet, hot and in just a few seconds I was biting the pillow so that Sofía and Pablo wouldn't hear my cry of pleasure. I was trembling, agitated and sweaty. I continued thinking although already more relaxed and told myself: I need to get it on. I promised my son that I wouldn't focus on another man who wasn't his father. But as everything stays in the family, I would get rid of my desires with Pablo. After all, he wouldn't have any problem getting himself off at the slut of his mother, this hot slut who needed a good

dose of cock in the next 48 hours or I wouldn't fulfill my promise. Sofi, my beautiful Sofi, went to school like every morning. Pablo then woke up and got out of bed wearing only his underwear with the typical erection of someone who just wakes up, started walking around in front of me in the kitchen while I was preparing breakfast. He opened the fridge and took out a box of cum and drank from the tip. I realized that he had let a small stream of cum fall from the corner of his lips, which he wiped away with his hand as he looked at me smiling. Immediately, I acted, pulled the carton of cum off him and left it on the counter. I put my palm on his chest and pushed him back looking at him with a slutty face. He grabbed my wrist and put his other hand on the back of my neck, brought me close quickly and we fused in a passionate tongue kiss. His hands ran all over me. Standing on one leg, with the other wrapped around him while I was putting my hand on his cock and with the other squeezing his ass. We weren't talking. Only there were moans and action. He took off my pajama shirt and left my breasts exposed. With his hands and mouth, he attacked them while I, leaning against the counter edge, pulled my head and torso back, dominated by pleasure. I was sucking and caressing my breasts and with the other hand, I ran my thong of cotton and got my fingers wet in my juices. He put two and three fingers in and rubbed my clitoris with his thumb. What a load Pablo knew how to use his hands. And his tongue too: he lifted me up onto the counter and knelt down to suck my pussy, and I ended up in a two-three. He stopped and boned me like that, starting a rocking motion that made me come again and again. While he was putting it in, he picked me up a bit off the marble and passed his finger over my pussy which was dripping with delicious juices that he used to lubricate my ass. He put that finger in wonderfully. He had his cock in my pussy and one finger in my ass going up and down and around. What pleasure I felt. It was like With his father. A whirlpool of pleasure. He got me down from the counter and forced me to suck her while kneeling. I devoured her for several minutes, all the while he was touching my tits and I was putting my fingers in her pussy. He stopped, turned me around, and made me fall onto the marble countertop, pointing at me with my ass. I knew it was going to go in there and told him don't waste time. He nailed me and started shaking. It didn't stop and I kept coming again and again. I was still using my fingers to give myself more pleasure. Until he said I'm done and his contractions transmitted throughout my rectum, covering every cell of my body. It seemed like with ejaculation Pablo also got his whole body into my ass. How I felt it, how I enjoyed it. How delicious. We didn't talk. We just hugged and kissed. Pablo called work to say he wasn't feeling well and would stay home. We had four hours free until Sofia came from school and we took advantage of them. Catching in the shower. In my bed. In hers. Again in the kitchen. In the living room. In the garden. It was an impressive day of sex, just like the ones I have with Gustavo. And even today, almost a year after that first time with Pablo, we still do it all the time. It's magical when after having sex with my son I meet Gustavo. My two lovers together. Wish it were possible at the same time. But neither one nor the other would accept it. And Pablo doesn't want to know anything about his father coming home, but he's slowly letting go because he knows I wouldn't stop having sex with him. He'll always be my lover.