Three years ago when I was fifty I began an affair with my eighteen-year-old stepson. Or was he a former stepson since his father and I were already divorced? That does not matter or what I am sure readers of this story care about and it does not make what I did less shameful. What matters is that I did things I am now ashamed of and I did them willingly and, yes, enjoyed immensely as I helped satisfy my stepson’s disgusting perversions. The affair lasted a little over three years until I finally had to put a stop to it for several reasons that will be revealed.
I met my husband when I was thirty-seven years old and working for the US Embassy in Seoul, South Korea. I was divorced for five years and had been married for ten years. I didn’t have any kids, although we tried. I was unable to get pregnant.
My job title was listed as a clerk and interrupter. I am Korean and fluent in English, Japanese, Chinese, and of course Korean. While I was listed as an employee of the US Embassy, I worked for the CIA. Yes, that’s right, the CIA. Don’t worry I am not divulging any top-secret information by writing that or any in the story. I didn’t know any top secret information and my security clearance was at the lowest level possible. My job was not even exciting at all.
All I did all day was listen to North Korean radio broadcasts, watch North Korean television, and read North Korean newspapers. I would then interrupt them in English and pass them along. I never knew what happened after that or if they ever resulted into anything and I doubt they did. Every once in a while I would be used as an interrupter for just low-level stuff such as when a Korean person came into the Embassy and was applying for a Visa I would be called upstairs and interrupt the questions and answers. That didn’t happen often.
The perks were great, however. Having that US Embassy employee identification card got me out of paying a lot of parking tickets I would accumulate. Also getting invited to the Embassy parties was nice as well. I suspect that me and the other Korean girls that were invited were mainly due to our looks and we were “eye candy” for the visiting diplomats and other VIPs. Most of the low-level Korean female employees that were invited were pretty. Yes, I know that was terrible but I didn’t make the rules and still enjoyed the parties.
I was still very pretty at thirty-seven years old and even now at fifty-three, I consider myself an attractive woman. I am five feet, seven inches tall, a slender figure that I have kept with no exercise, and just lucky not to have gained weight.
My hair is a natural brown due to my grandmother getting pregnant with my mother by an American soldier during the Korean War. He gave her promises of love and marriage. He may have been truthful, but she never knew since he was killed in action when my grandmother was six months pregnant.
I have perky 34A breasts that are tipped with dark brown, small areolas, and perky nipples. My nipples get large, puffy, and swollen when erect. That can be rather embarrassing when they get erect at inappropriate times due to cold weather or when I become aroused in public. they did poke out from underneath my clothes and bra.
Not that a lot of men saw my bare breasts and nipples. I didn’t hook up with men at those parties and was not expected to. I and the other girls were there just to be seen. Then I met Frank at one of the embassy parties.
Frank was a US Navy Officer and a former helicopter pilot for search and rescue who was now on desk duty and recently stationed at the embassy. Frank was very handsome in his dress white uniform. Later that night when I took him back to the apartment, I found out he was very handsome out of his uniform also. He was thirty-nine years old when we met. Frank kept in great shape and had a nice athletic body.
I learned Frank was divorced and had a four-year-old son he had custody of. Since Frank was a higher-ranking officer, he was able to bring Trevor with him. He had a Korean woman who spoke English taking care of Trevor when he was at work. His ex-wife had walked out on him and her son when the boy was two and they never saw or heard from her again. Three months after I met him, Frank and I were married.
It did not take long for me to get all the proper paperwork approved to get my green card to go to the States since I had already had an extensive background check run on me for my job. Two months after I was married I found myself away from all my family and friends in Korea, living in Jacksonville, and the stepmother of a now five-year-old boy while my husband was at sea with the Navy.
It was hard at first, being away from my family and in a completely new world and now being a mother but I adapted quickly. Frank was not at sea for very long and took a desk job at Jacksonville Naval Air Station.
When Frank was stationed in Jacksonville, Florida he was near the end of his naval career. I learned how to be a Naval Officer’s wife and how to be a mother. Frank’s son, Trevor, was shy with me at first but soon he seemed to accept me. As he grew older we became close as a mother and son and he even started referring to me as mother or mom. Life was good for us.
Six years after we were married, Frank retired from the Navy as a captain with twenty-three years of military service. He accepted a job with Lockheed Martin in Orlando, Florida. In Orlando we bought a house, the first house that was ours and not base housing or a rental. I was then forty-three, Frank was forty-five, and Trevor was eleven.
Life remained very good to us. Frank worked in a second career that paid him extremely well and Frank would often joke that his salary was too high for the work he did. With his salary and his retirement from the Navy and the benefits that went with it, we were very well off financially and I did not have to work. We had a very nice, four-bedroom house that had three bathrooms, a bonus room above the garage, and a screened-in swimming pool.
We had a condo in Naples, Florida, and a cabin in the mountains in North Georgia. We sometimes rented the cabin but not the condo. I liked the beach and Naples, but I preferred the cabin more. It was secluded and had a nice stream on the property full of trout. I always enjoyed fishing and camping when I was younger and fishing for trout reminded me of being young and my grandfather taking me fishing in Korea.
I had been raising Trevor and thought of him as my son. I was glad to have him since I could not have kids of my own. Trevor and I were close and Frank was a wonderful father and adored his son.
As Trevor got older it was made clear that he was not going to be like his father. He did not grow to be a handsome boy like his father was and remained handsome as he got older. Trevor was just not a very attractive young man. I know that is bad to say about someone who you thought of as your son, but I am being honest.
Trevor was thin, but not feeble thin, just skinny. Unlike his father, he was not athletic and had no interest in sports at all. His interest was in video games and he played them all the time. We even converted the bonus room above the garage into a game room for him. Trevor was just not a good-looking boy and would not grow up to be a good-looking man.
As Trevor got older and entered his teenage years, he stopped referring to me as mom or mother and started calling me Ran as everyone else did. My given name was Hue-Ran but everyone just called me Ran. We also seemed to grow apart and were not as close as we used to be. A typical teenage boy, I assumed, and he was going through that stage in his life, but I hated it and it saddened me a great deal.
He was still a good boy, however, and didn’t get into trouble. His friends were like him, video game geeks and nerds with no social skills and seemed afraid of girls, but they were nice boys. They came to the house often to play video games, use the pool, and spend the night.
When Trevor turned thirteen and became independent and didn’t want his mother around anymore and felt he didn’t need her, I started working. We didn’t need the money of course, but it gave me something to do. At age forty-five, I got my real estate license and began selling homes. I enjoyed it. When Trevor was sixteen I made a shocking discovery around the time my marriage started to crumble.
The discovery I made was that Trevor had an addiction to porn, or at least I called it that while his father said boys will be boys. I had spilled coffee on my laptop one day and ruined it and I needed to check on a housing listing I had. Trevor was at school and his father at work so the only computers I had access to were Trevor’s gaming computer or his laptop. Yes, I know I could have used my phone but I hated going on the internet on my phone. I didn’t like the small screen when going to certain websites and how you would have to zoom in see them clearly and then zoom out to scroll down, etc. Was just a pain in the butt.
I went into Trevor’s room and grabbed his laptop and took it into the kitchen. I sat at the dinette table to do my work. His laptop was password protected but I knew the four-number password was his birth date month and year. I was not trying to snoop, I swear, but I did check his browsing history. What I found shocked me.
I knew or suspected there may be porn in the history, he was a teenage boy, but I was shocked at the amount of porn there was. To me, it was an excessive amount. Then it was the type of porn Trevor watched. I didn’t look at any of the videos, but in his search history was some very disgusting porn genre.
There was bondage porn, older woman fucked by younger male porn, spanking porn, rough sex porn, forced blowjob porn, rough anal sex porn, anal gaping porn, MILF porn, MILF anal porn, MILF gang bang porn, and other disgusting searches. It was the last thing I noticed that gave me the biggest shock, however. Asian mother fucked by son, Asian mother fucked by stepson, and Asian mother gang banged by son and his friends.
I am not a naive person or a prude, but what I saw in his searches shocked me and the last ones even more. I quickly closed the laptop and took it back to his room. I went into the living room, sat on the sofa, and thought about what I saw.
I knew Trevor’s friends thought I was attractive and maybe some of them talked about me sexually among themselves. It was easy to notice since Trevor and his friends were not socially adept. I saw how they looked at me when they came over, especially when they came over to swim and I was by the pool in my two-piece bathing suit. I never encouraged the looks or flaunted myself to them. I was not that type of person. My clothing choices were rather modest and so was my two-piece swimsuit.
I never thought Trevor thought of me like that, however. If he did think about me like that; I was not sure and maybe it was just a genre of porn to add to the already perverted stuff he watched. My biggest concern, however, was for my stepson’s well-being. I thought the stuff he watched and the amount was unhealthy.
That night I told Frank about it, not all of it, I just said there were a lot of porn searches on his computer and maybe Trevor had a porn addiction. Frank told me boys would be boys and it was normal. I didn’t think it was normal and the things he watched were far from normal to me. I made Frank promise he would talk to Trevor about it and explain to him that what he watched was not how sex was. To explain that women didn’t do the things the actresses in porn did and they were getting paid to play roles. He promised me he would. I asked Frank to set some parental controls for our internet as well.
The next night I asked my husband if he talked with Trevor, and he said he did. I asked about the parental controls and he said they could place them but knowing much more about cyber security than I did, Frank told me they were easy to get around, especially by someone with Trevor’s intelligence. He then told me that Trevor now understood after their talk and everything was fine. I accepted that and that was the end of the conversation and thought everything would be fine now.
I would have followed up and snooped and checked Trevor’s computers again to make sure he was not watching that disgusting porn. I didn’t though because I soon had other problems. A couple of months after I discovered the things I did on Trevor’s computer my marriage started to fall apart. It was entirely my fault that it did. I cheated on my husband with a one-night stand with a stranger.
I was in Baltimore, Maryland for a four-day real estate convention. On the last night there I was in the hotel bar having a drink before I went to my room. I sat at the bar, alone, and the twenty-seven-year-old bartender started flirting with me. I was flattered of course and after my second drink, I started to flirt back. I am not a heavy drinker and alcohol goes right to my head.
He was a nice-looking young black man and very charming. After my third drink and some more flirting that had started to get out of control, he told me he got off work in thirty minutes. I slid my extra room key card across the bar to him, smiled seductively at him, and went to my room. I know I could have just told him my room number, but I had seen people in movies giving another person their hotel room key and thought it was sexy so I did it.
I was not drunk and I won’t blame what I did on alcohol. I was in control of myself and my senses. I knew what I was doing and I knew it was wrong. Once in my room, I freshened up. I washed my face of makeup, applied fresh makeup, and added more than I normally wore to try and make myself look younger than my forty-eight years. I then applied red “fuck me” lipstick.
I let my long hair down and brushed it out. I knew I looked younger than my age but I wanted to look even younger. Satisfied with the way I looked, I took off my clothes, bra, panties, and put on the white hotel robe. I sat in the chair in the hotel room and waited.
I had several moments to think about what I was about to do and to change my mind, but I didn’t. I thought about the young, sexy, handsome black man kissing me, touching me, sucking his penis, and having sex. My pussy was wet thinking about it, and I felt its desire to be filled.
When I heard the knock on the door and then the sound of the man inserting to room card key into the slot, I hurried to the bed, sat down, and tried to look seductive. He walked into the room and I smiled at him. We gave each other quick verbal greetings; he walked to the bed, bent down, and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck and pulled him on top of me. Then we started.
I don’t know why I did what I did. I was not lonely, I was still in love with my husband, we were at a good place in our marriage, and I was not sexually unsatisfied. True, we were not having the sex we once had but we were both older and age catches up to you and can diminish your sex drive or so I thought. I found out that night I was wrong about having a diminished sex drive.
It was a couple of years later; however, when my affair with my stepson began I learned I was very wrong about having a low sex drive. Oh, I was so, so, so, very wrong. I discovered at age fifty I could have the sex drive of a twenty-year-old. But I am jumping ahead. That will be revealed later in the story.
I did what I did that night in a Baltimore hotel room and there was no taking it back. It was meaningless sex I had that night, no emotions just lust. I could say the sex was not that good, but that would be a lie. It was fantastic. We gave each other oral sex; I let him cum in my mouth when I was giving him a blowjob. I orgasmed all over his mouth when he went down on my pussy, and we fucked each other several times until age caught up with me and I was spent and exhausted and could take no more.
I know readers are going to want to know this because the man was black so I will tell them. No, he was not well-endowed and had an average size penis. But he used it well and often.
After we were done, he didn’t stay and cuddle or sleep with me and I didn’t want him to. When I told him I could not fuck him anymore because I was worn out, he got up, got dressed, and left. I didn’t think about what I had done and feel guilty or remorse after he left. I was too exhausted and fell asleep quickly.
The next morning after I answered my wakeup call, the guilt set in, and it hit like a ton of bricks. I hung the phone up and the first thing that I noticed was the smell of sex in the room to remind me of what I had done. The second reminder was when I tried to get out of bed I winced and moaned out from pain. Every muscle in my body from the neck down seemed to hurt from the positions the man put me in as he fucked me, my pussy was sore from how many times the man fucked me, and my nipples ached from his pinching and sucking and biting of them.
I showered, got dressed, packed, went to the airport, and then home. The entire time guilt consumed me and I hated myself for what I did. I was a terrible human being, I told myself over and over. I cried often and when I broke out into tears on the plane the stewardess asked me if I was ok and bought me some water and tissues. She thought I was crying because of a fear of flying.
That night the guilt finally was so overwhelming that I confessed to my husband what I had done. Naturally, he was angry but he was hurt more. He yelled of course and then asked the question one would ask in such a situation. Did I still love him, did I love the man I cheated with, who was it, how did it happen, how many times had I cheated on him, was the sex good, and why?
I answered truthfully except for the question of was the sex was good; I lied on that one. Yes, I loved him, no I did not love the other man, just a man met, it just happened, I never cheated on him before, no the sex was not good, and when he asked why I did it I just stood there like an idiot. I did not have an answer to that question.
I did not argue back, I had no right to. That night and the next four other nights I slept in the guest room. My husband did not want to be around me. I did not have the right to ask Frank to sleep in another room so I did. We tried to hide it from Trevor but it was easy to see and feel the tension between his father and me. He didn’t know the reason for it, but he knew it was there.
On the fifth day after I told him, Frank told me he could not forgive me yet but we could work things out. I accepted that because I knew I had broken our trust and forgiveness would not be easy after what I had done. I was glad he wanted to work things out because I did not want to get divorced. I did love my husband and loved Trevor as a son and would hate to lose both of them.
The next year and a half was not a good year and a half for Frank and me. He said he would work on forgiving me and I think he did, but that type of trust was hard to get back. He started keeping tabs on me. tracking everywhere I went and wanting to know what I was doing almost every minute of the day. A few times he accused me of cheating on him again if I didn’t answer his calls or text him back almost immediately.
He tracked my location using our phones and he would call or text almost every hour asking me where I was and what I was doing. He would not let me go out with my friends as much as I used to and when I did, he would call me or text me and even call my friends to see if I was really with them. It became very annoying, but I could not blame him and I didn’t say anything to him about it; at least not at first.
Trevor also became aware something was wrong and he started to become even more aloof to me. Sometimes, he was downright belligerent with me. I don’t think he knew what I did; I was pretty confident about that, but he could sense whatever it was it was my fault.
After almost a year of this, I could not take it anymore and started to stand my ground. I am not a meek person or a submissive woman. People say things like American men should marry Asian women because they are more submissive. That’s bullshit. Those people never met me; the women I knew back home in Korea, and certainly not my mother and both my grandmothers. I was not a pushover at all. When I said no I meant no, when I told someone I was not going to do something I was not going to do it.
The same applied sexually. I was not a submissive person sexually. When it came to sex me and my partner were equal. When I said no I was not going to do something sexual I did not want to do I didn’t do it. If the man persisted or kept trying I got mad. I was not a prude sexually, but there were things I was not going to do. Of course, I didn’t date men who were sexual deviants and no man ever tried to do something to me sexually I would not be at least willing to try. The only time that ever happened was with the man I had a one-night stand with.
He wanted to have anal sex with me and I told him no. He then tried to put a finger up my butt when he was fucking me with my legs bent up to my head. I told him no. I was not having anything go up my butt! When I was in my thirties I got a kidney stone and the doctor prescribed a suppository for the vomiting and nausea. I told him not to even waste his time because I was not going to use it and I would rather have the nausea and throw up than put anything in my butthole.
I didn’t beg the man not to do either of those things, I told him outright no and if he didn’t like it he could leave. I don’t beg and I don’t plead with people. I was glad he didn’t leave, however.
After close to a year of putting up with Frank’s suspicions and him tracking my every move, I had had enough. I put it up for as long as I did because of guilt and the fact I did do wrong. We started to argue over it and every little thing. Why didn’t he take the trash out when I asked him to? Why did I cook pork chops for dinner when he wanted a roast? As well as other small things.
Our sex life ended as well. We had only had sex once since I cheated on him and that was about a month after I did. Frank would just not touch me intimately after my cheating on him. I even tried to initiate sex often, but he always gave an excuse as to why he didn’t want to have sex with me. Once he even called me a whore and he didn’t fuck whores. I cried for a long time over that.
The one time we did have sex it was non-intimate, rough, and over with quickly. I did orgasm though. But that was not abnormal. I am easy to make orgasm and did so often when having sex and even had multiple orgasms at times.
When I was younger and in my first marriage, I was a little concerned over how fast and often I orgasmed during sex. I would cum two or even three times before the man did once. I honestly thought something was wrong with me.
Silly, I know but I did. I asked my then gynecologist and she chuckled and said, “Aren’t you a lucky young woman”. She then told me nothing was wrong with me and went into a medical explanation of the female reproductive system. I had tuned her out after she said nothing was wrong with me.
At age forty-nine a little over a year since I had cheated on my husband, we both had had enough. We got separated. He moved out. I would have but he said he did not want to live in a home where his wife fucked other men in. His trust in me was so low that he thought I had cheated on him again even though I never did. Trevor was seventeen and about to turn eighteen in a month and he left with his father.
He could have stayed and his father told him he could, but Trevor said he didn’t want to stay. The boy resented me for the separation. I didn’t blame him. To Trevor, it was as if the women in his life that he loved and who claimed to love him abandoned him. First, his mother left him when he was just a baby and now I was the cause of his father leaving me.
A month and a week later I was served with divorce papers. I got an attorney and things were discussed and negotiated between my attorney and Frank’s attorney and without going to court we got a divorce. Frank didn’t hate me; I found that out through the divorce negotiations. He was very generous when he did not have to be and he even listed the reason for divorce as irreconcilable differences. I kept the house and the cabin in north Georgia and he got the condo in Naples. There would be no alimony and I did not want any and didn’t need any.
When Frank moved out I went from part-time to full-time with the real estate company I worked for. I was very successful as a part-time employee and they had been asking me to go full-time for months. Financially I would be just fine and now working full-time selling homes better off than just fine.
By the time I got divorced, I was not selling just any type of home. My success led to the company promoting me to the higher value homes and then the highest value homes our company represented in areas such as the Bay Hill area and Windermere area. I was doing very well financially; better than very well. I was making serious money with my commissions.
After my divorce, I was sad, lonely, and a little depressed, but Trevor helped me feel a little better. About two months after my divorce my husband accepted a promotion at work and moved to Huntsville, Alabama. Trevor, now eighteen, decided to stay in Florida because he had been accepted at UCF (University of Central Florida) in Orlando. Trevor and I seemed to reconcile.
He was living with three of his friends until he started college and he would move into the dorms. He would come over and check on me sometimes and we would go out for dinner, and he would again bring his friends over to use the pool. I liked having them there, reminded me of better days, and I would make sure they had plenty of food and drink when they came over. I pampered them hoping it would keep Trove coming back. I greatly missed my stepson and the close bond we had once shared. Even though we were still a long way from being as close as we used to be, just having that tiny amount made me feel better.
Six months after my divorce I decided to snap out of my funk. I was not ready to date again but there were things I could do. The first thing I decided to do was get rid of the old. Things that reminded me of Frank. Some of the clothes and knickknacks he left behind. I decided to have a garage sale and I would give the money to Trevor to help with his school. I asked Trevor to help me and was said he would like to.
It was then that my stepson seduced me. I could lie and say I resisted and put up a fight, but I didn’t. It was very easy for him to seduce and I did resist, but only for a moment and half hardily at that. I think I only told him no once.
The night before, Trevor helped me move boxes and set up for the garage sale, and after I was going to make us dinner. Lifting one of the boxes I hurt my shoulder, which was from an old injury I suffered when I was younger and would easily aggravate it sometimes when I overdid it. After we had set up and everything done I told him I was going to shower and start dinner. My shoulder was sore and stiff.
After the shower, I put on a pair of clean panties and then my white terry cloth robe that came up over my knees. I brushed my wet hair, rubbed my shoulder some, and walked into my bedroom. Trevor was sitting on the edge of my bed. He had showered also and was wearing a pair of baggy basketball shorts and a tee shirt. I gave a jump because his being in my room startled me.
The fact that I was wearing my short robe didn’t faze me. Trevor had seen me wearing that at other times. The fact he was on my bed didn’t faze me either. We had conversations before in my room in the past. True, he had been younger, but I was still not bothered by it.
I had completely forgotten about all the porn and the genre of porn I found on his computer two years ago. He was older now and I was sure that phase was past. It was not long after that night I stepped out of the bathroom and found him sitting on my bed that I remembered the porn and especially the Asian genre he watched. I was reminded of it by the things he did to me, what he had me do to him, what I did for him, and what he had me do to myself.
“Did you need something?” I asked
Trevor smiled at me. “I just wanted to see if your shoulder was ok and if you need me to massage it,” he told me.
He didn’t look me up and down or stare at the bare legs I was showing in my robe. I knew that since he didn’t stare at me with lust I did not take his asking if I needed a shoulder massage as anything but that.
“Sure, if you don’t mind,” I told him.
Both Trevor and his father had given me shoulder massages before when my old shoulder injury had acted up. Of course, Trevor never did so in my room or on my bed.
“Come sit down,” he told me
I sat cross-legged in the center of my king-size bed, adjusted the hem of my robe as best as possible so I would not be displaying much, and pulled the top of the robe to my neckline and cinched the belt tighter. Trevor got behind me on his knees. He started to gently but firmly massage my shoulders.
As he massaged me, we talked about inconsequential stuff and I asked most of the questions. What his plans were for the summer, how was his summer job going, how was living with his three friends going, whether was he dating anyone, etc. I knew he was not dating anyone.
He was not very attractive, and my God forgive me for thinking that, but he wasn’t. I was sure there was a girl out there for him, but he was eighteen, and eighteen-year-old boys wanted pretty girls to date and didn’t understand that looks were not everything. I hoped whoever he ended up dating and maybe having a relationship with would be a nice girl. I was worried he would end up with some girl who would take advantage of him. Trevor was a nice boy and kind and it worried me a girl would use that against him. I was a young girl once and while I never took advantage of a boy, I knew how some girls could be.
I was enjoying the massage and it was making my shoulder feel better, but it was the conversation I was enjoying more. I missed the mother-and-son bond we had once shared. I was happy we seemed to have put the past behind us and were once again trying to be as close as we used to be. My shoulder had stopped hurting but I let my stepson continue the massage so we could continue to talk.
“I think Dad was stupid to divorce you,” Trevor told me after we had talked for a while. “He is an idiot.”
“Trevor, you shouldn’t say such things about your father,” I chastised him. “He is a good man and cares and loves you a great deal.”
It was nice to hear him say his father was an idiot for divorcing me. Not because I wanted him to think his father was an idiot or begrudge his father in any way for our divorce. It was nice to hear because it meant that Trevor had no idea Frank and I got divorced. For that I was glad.
“I know,” he replied. “But he’s still an idiot for divorcing you.”
I giggled. “Well thank you. Umm…how is he doing anyway?” I asked in an almost whisper.
“He is good. I went to visit him in Huntsville last month and stayed a couple of weeks,” Trevor told me. I had known that already. “He is dating someone now,” the boy said hesitantly and waited for my reaction. That I didn’t know.
I did stiffen a little at that and sighed, “I hope she makes him happy and is a nice person and good to him.”
“She is nice,” Trevor told me. “Much younger than Dad; forty-two or forty-three I think. She has two kids from her previous marriage; a twelve-year-old girl and a fourteen-year-old boy. Maybe he is fifteen, I forget. Dad likes them and does a lot with them.”
I felt a sudden rush of envy. I knew Frank wanted more kids and I always felt bad I could not give him any.
“She’s not as pretty as you are though,” Trevor added.
“Trevor!” I exclaimed. “That is not nice to say.”
Secretly I was glad he said it though. Not that he thought I was pretty but that he thought his new stepmother was not as pretty as me even if she was younger.
“Well, it’s true. She’s not and she’s not as sexy as you are either, Mom,” My step-son told me.
I knew he should not be saying I was sexy but I overlooked it because he called me “Mom”. Trevor has not referred to me as Mom or Mother since he was about thirteen and it made me feel good that he now did.
I didn’t think I looked pretty or sexy. I had just gotten out of the shower, my hair was wet, and had no makeup on to conceal the crow’s feet around my eyes and the wrinkles under them.
“Stop being silly and stop trying to make me feel better,” I told him.
“I am not being silly,” he said. “It’s true. Why do you think all my friends used to come over and play video games or spend the night? They came over to see you, especially when they would come over to use the pool and to see you in your swimsuit.”
I blushed and looked down. I gave a little gasp because the top of my robe had opened some during the massage. With Trevor kneeling behind me and looking down on me he was able to see my right breast exposed. I quickly brought my hand up to close my robe. I was stopped when Trevor placed his hand over mine and gently pulled it away and pushed it to my side.
“Don’t,” he told me.
I just froze. I could not move. My stomach seemed to suddenly feel as if it was in knots. Trevor let go of my hand and I seemed as if I could not move it to cover myself. It was like I was paralyzed. He then brought his hand up to my robe and opened it more to expose both my breasts.
“Trevor,” I managed to say in a high-pitched squeak.
Trevor lowered his head and pressed his mouth to my ear. “Do you want to know the things they said about you?” he asked.
I could feel his warm breath on my neck as he reached over my shoulder and ran his right hand down my chest.
“N…no, please, don’t,” I told him. My voice was soft, sounded unsure, and almost sounded like a tone of a plea.
“They used to tell me how sexy you were and how lucky I was to have such a hot Asian stepmother,” Trevor whispered in my ear.
His hand was now on my breast and he was running his fingers over it, just the tips of his fingers very lightly teasing the flesh.
“Do you want to hear more of what they would say, Mother?” He asked. He used the word mother in an affectionate tone.
“No,” I whispered even though I knew it was a rhetorical question.
Trevor brought his left hand around my waist and up to my left breast. Both his hands found my nipples, which were now puffy and swollen. I gasped out when the boy started to roll them gently between his thumbs and forefingers. I gasped out again and louder when Trevor started kissing my neck.
In between his kisses on my neck, my stepson told me what his friends would say about me.
“They would tell me how they wanted you to suck their cocks,” he said and I flinched at the word cock, “how they wanted to fuck you and they were quite explicit in the details, my dear Mother,” again he said Mother with affection. “Does the thought of sucking my friends’ cocks one after another and having them take turns fucking you over and over again make your pussy wet, Mother?”
“No,” I again whispered.
My pussy was wet, it was becoming extremely wet. Not because of what Trevor’s friends would say about me or the thought of such a perverted thing they wanted to do to me. No, my pussy was wet and I was sexually aroused by what Trevor was doing to me. His fondling of my nipples and his kissing of my neck had turned me on. To my great shame so did him calling me Mother.
I don’t know why I was so aroused by having my unattractive stepson doing what he was doing to me. It was wrong, so wrong and I knew that. Not just because he was my stepson but because I was fifty years old and he was eighteen. I knew I should have stopped him and told him to leave the house, to never see him again. Maybe even call his father and tell his father what he had done and the disgusting things he had said to me. I didn’t however, and I could not explain why.
Maybe because I was lonely, maybe because I had missed the bond we once shared so much, or maybe because I didn’t want him to hate me as much as I thought he had after the divorce from his father. Maybe it was something so simple as the fact I had not had sex in over a year and having someone, anyone, touch me as he was touching me and kissing me as he was kissing my neck sexually aroused me. Maybe it was a combination of it all.
Whatever the reason I was very sexually aroused and I knew I should stop it. I just couldn’t and again felt paralyzed and could not move.
“Do you know what I told them, sweet Mother,” Trevor asked and again I knew it was rhetorical. I just shook my head, unable to answer verbally. “I told them I wanted to do the same to you as well. I had for years now. I used to jerk off thinking about fucking you, Mother. About you sucking my dick, swallowing my cum, tasting your sexy old pussy, and then fucking you.”
I was shocked by his revelation but again did nothing to stop him.
Still playing with my nipples, Trevor moved to sit down on the bed, put his legs in front of his body, and moved back in the bed until he was sitting up with his back pressed against the headboard. He pulled me back to him so my back was pressed against his body and my head was against his neck. He brushed my still-damp hair behind my ears so he could see my face.
He leaned his head down and once again pressed his lips to my ear. “This is what we are going to do, Mother. I am going to get off the bed, you’re going to remove your panties, lie flat on the bed, untie your robe, and spread it open so I can see your sexy body. Then place your hands at your sides. You are not going to move as I spread your legs and start to tease your wet pussy and swollen clit, sweet Mother. I am going to tease them for a while. Then I am going to get your small vibrator you keep in your nightstand and use it on your pussy and clit until you can’t take it anymore and start to beg me to fuck you and make you cum.” Trevor sucked my earlobe into his mouth.
“But I am not going to fuck my mother’s pussy just yet,” he continued. “I will let you cum through. I want to watch your face as you cum and listen to your moans as you cum. Then I am going to lie next to you on the bed. You are then going to kiss me and kiss your way down my body. Then you will pull my shorts down and suck my cock until I cum in your mouth. You are going to suck it nice and slow and tease it and make it very enjoyable for me. No quick blowjob to make me cum fast. You are going to swallow all of your son’s cum. I am then going to eat my mother’s old pussy and taste it until you are again begging me to fuck you. Then I am going to make love to you, Mother.”
Trevor again sucked my ear lobe into his mouth and licked and gently nibbled on it. I moaned out in pleasure. I loved having my ears licked and kissed and sucked on.
“Then after I make love to you, I am going to fuck you,” he whispered in my ear. “I am going to fuck you over and over until your old pussy is sore and you beg me to stop, but I am going to fuck you again anyway.” He licked my ear. “I am going to fill my mother’s pussy with so much cum that it will be leaking out for days.”
My entire body was flushed from blushing as Trevor went into detail about what he was going to do to me. The entire time he was describing what was going to happen, Trevor kept playing with my nipples. I kept my head down and watched him tease my puffy, thick nipples. I was letting out continuous, soft whimpering sounds. When he referred to me as Mother and himself as my son, I would whimper louder. It seemed to turn me on even more. I let out a loud gasp of surprise when Trevor mentioned my vibrator.
I had purchased it online when I was still married to his father and after I confessed my affair. I used it about twice a month because Frank refused to be intimate with me and make love to me. I still used it about twice a month after the divorce.
“I am going to enjoy hearing your loud moans and cries and how you cry, Oh God, over and over as I fuck you,” Trevor added.
My head jerked up and I looked at the boy. Trevor grinned at me.
“Oh, that surprises you that I know what you sound like when you get fucked and how you scream, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, over and over again?” he then chuckled. “It shouldn’t. You are very loud when you get fucked mother. Hell, my bedroom was downstairs and I still heard Dad fucking you.” He gave me another grin. “I used to jerk off listening to you getting fucked and think about I was the one fucking you.”
I blushed even deeper when he told me that.
“Do you want to do that, dear mother?” he asked. “Do you want me to do all those things to your sexy body? Do even more to you? Do you want me to use your body for our pleasure?”
I finally found the strength to move. I didn’t pull away however; instead, I looked up at Trevor’s unattractive face, put my right arm around his neck, closed my eyes, parted my lips, and pulled his head to mine. I had surrendered to him and surrendered easily.
We kissed with our lips parted at first but quickly allowed our tongues to enter each other’s mouths. It was intense, lustful, passionate kissing. Trevor broke the kiss and gently pushed me forward and got off the bed.
I leaned up and removed my panties, lay down flat on the bed, and did what he had told me I was going to do. I untied my robe and spread it open so my stepson could see my full naked body. I placed my arms at my side and turned my head to look at the boy. He was smiling down at me with a look of victory on his face. I looked down at his waist and crotch hoping to see his erection, but I couldn’t see any bulge showing. His basketball shorts were too baggy.
I kept my eyes on my stepson as he got back on the bed on his knees. I was trembling from both excitement and fear. I was not afraid of Trevor, but I was afraid because what we were doing was so very wrong. Even though I knew it was wrong, I wanted it. God help me, I wanted my eighteen-year-old stepson to do everything to me he described.
I flinched when the boy placed his hands on my upper thighs and looked down to see it. I watched as he spread my legs.
“Put your feet flat on the bed so I have better access to that pussy,” he ordered me. I did. “Now spread your legs further apart.” I did.
Trevor ran his right hand up my thigh. I let out a soft moan and my body jerked when the boy ran his forefinger up my pussy. He didn’t penetrate me with his finger, but slowly and delicately ran his finger up the slit and just barely between my pussy lips.
“Your pussy is already so wet, Mother,” he told me. “You are so wet that your pussy juices are leaking out over the outside of your pussy, dear Mother.” He chuckled and again I blushed.
I was breathing harder as he touched me. “Maybe…maybe you shouldn’t call me Mother anymore,” I suggested. With what he was doing and what I was allowing him to do, I didn’t think it was right for him to refer to me as his mother.
“Oh no, Mother, I like calling you Mother when I play with your body and when I am going to fuck you,” he told me. “Don’t you like hearing it? Don’t you think it shows how much I care about you and how much you care about me?”
I swallowed hard and looked into his green eyes. “Yes,” I admitted. It may have been wrong but I did like it and it did add to my sexual arousal and my sexual desire for my stepson.
Trevor smiled. He then bent his head down to get a closer look at my pussy as he played with it.
“Don’t look at it like that,” I told him. I found how he was looking at it embarrassing.
Trevor ignored me and continued to play with my pussy and look at it closely. I found it both humiliating and arousing at the same time. His fingers kept gently running up and down my pussy as I made whimpers of pleasure. I would gasp out loudly and my body would jerk when his fingers brushed my clit. My breathing had increased and became harder as Trevor played with and examined my pussy with his fingers while he kept looking at it. While it was embarrassing to me I could not deny the pleasure I was getting.
“Your pussy is so sexy, Mother,” he commented, “so small and tight looking. You really should shave it or get it waxed though. Remove all the hair. A sexy pussy like yours should be shown off not hidden.” He turned his head to look at me. “But I guess since you have had no one to show it to in a long time there was no need,” he then grinned at me. “Well, you have me to show it to now, Mother, so I think you need to shave it soon.”
I had never shaved or gotten a full wax to remove the hair from my pussy and never wanted to. I thought that was not something a sexually moral person did. I did trim it for the summer months for when I wore my swimsuit, but removing all the hair was something I never wanted to do.
I didn’t protest Trevor’s request, however, I just nodded my head. His comment about me having him to show my pussy to did not go unnoticed. He expected us to have sex more than just this one time. While I wanted him to fuck me that night, and I wanted him badly, I was not going to let it happen again. I would have to tell him that afterward.
I felt my stepson spread my pussy lips apart using his index finger and middle finger. “That sure is one sexy, pink pussy you have, mother. You’re so wet it’s glistening,” he told me. “the inside of your pussy is a nice deep pink color, did you know that?”
I did know that. While I had never looked at the inside of my pussy before, I had the few men I had sex with in the past tell me that. I moaned out in pleasure when he teased the pink flesh between my labia.
“Yes, we need to show this pussy off, dear mother,” he told me.
Trevor must have had enough of examining my pussy, because he moved and once again knelt on the bed over my body. He then started doing the things to me he said he was going to do and I reacted just as he said I would.
Trevor continued to tease my pussy as I lay with my hands by my sides as he told me to and my fingers clutched the comforter of my bed. I was whimpering and would let out a gasp of pleasure and my body would give a sudden jerk when his finger brushed my clit.
“Oh, God,” I cried out when my stepson inserted a finger into my pussy.
I started squirming and thrusting my hips up, trying to get his finger to go deeper inside me, as Trevor made a circling motion with his finger. My breathing increased and my whimpers became louder. My nipples were so erect that they ached and I thought if it was possible they would split in two because they were so hard and tight. I gave another gasp of pleasure when he put another finger inside me.
“Damn, this pussy is so tight, Mother,” he teased me as he rotated both fingers inside my body. “Has it been neglected that long?” I didn’t answer, it was another rhetorical question.
I gasped out yet again, but this time in frustration, as Trevor pulled his fingers out of my pussy. I tried to prevent him by thrusting my hips off the bed, but it didn’t work.
My stepson held out his hand for me to see and grinned at me. “See how wet you are, mother,” he said.
I looked at his hand and his fingers were glistening from my pussy fluid. It was thick and had the same consistency of clear mucus. Trevor spread his fingers apart and the fluid stretched between them without breaking.
“Fuck, that is so sexy, Mother. I never imagined your pussy would get that wet and your pussy juices would be so thick,” he told me. Well, he was not the only one. I never knew it could either.
My stepson reached over and spread my fluid over my right nipple. I moaned and flinched with pleasure from his touch. He grinned at me again.
“Now for a little taste,” he said and leaned his head down.
“Oh, God, baby!” I cried out again. When his mouth closed over my nipple.
I thrust my chest up as Trevor placed his mouth over my small, perky breast and licked my nipple to taste the fluid. I cried out to God once more when he took my hard, puffy nipple gently between his teeth and flicked his tongue rapidly over it repeatedly. It felt so damn good!
he sucked and teased my nipple, Trevor’s eyes were looking up at my face and his hand once more went between my spread legs. He started playing with and fingering my pussy the same way he did before. After several seconds, he pulled his mouth off my nipple, raised his head, and pulled his fingers out of me.
“You look so sexy when you are getting your nipple sucked and pussy played with,” he told me. “I am going to enjoy how sexy you look when you get fucked.”
Trevor then brought his hand a few inches from my face and his fingers were just out of reach from my mouth. I knew what he was going to do and what he wanted me to do. He spread his fingers apart and once again I saw my clear, thick, fluid stretch between them.
I had tasted my pussy before when giving my partner a blowjob after we had sex or kissing him after he used his mouth on my pussy, but I never went out of my way to taste myself. I had my partners want me to lick their fingers after they had been inside of me, but I had always refused. I didn’t mind the taste, but tasting my sex fluid was not something I particularly enjoyed. At that moment with Trevor, however, I wanted to taste myself badly. I wanted him to watch me do it and be aroused by it.
I raised my head and licked between his fingers to gather the strand of thick fluid on my tongue. He then pressed his fingers to my lips and I greedily sucked them into my mouth. I licked and sucked his fingers clean of my sex fluid, the entire time keeping my eyes focused on Trevor watching me. Once his fingers were clean, my stepson pulled them from my mouth.
“You taste good, don’t you, Mother?” he asked.
“Make me cum now, baby, make love to me,” I told him instead of answering his question.
I didn’t beg or ask, I told him. Regardless of him telling me I was going to beg to cum I didn’t. I was not going to beg anyone for sex. Begging for anything was not something I did. Plus, he was an eighteen-year-old boy and I highly suspected a virgin. He would give in much faster than I would. He would not be able to control his desire and be able to restrain himself. There was no need to beg.
