DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME
Suggestive questions create a seductive quandary for mom

by Oediplex 8==3~


αυστηρή γραμματικοί δεν υποχρεούνται να εφαρμόζουν *


{be sure to look for the ‘bonus boner’ at the end!}

THE QUESTIONS

I’m Susan. My parents were hippies who lost their virginities to each other at a rock concert in college. I gave up my maidenhead to the guy who took me to my Senior Prom. (Grandma said it was tradition, for that’s when she had sex first too.) My kid is now out of High School, got a job and a jalopy. The ’67 Malibu is cherry, a gift from Gramp’s will. But Danny hasn’t gotten his busted yet, cherry that is; still the Big V hanging over his head.

I don’t go prying into my boy’s business, but like any concerned mother I want to be aware of what’s going on with his life. If he has issues, I always hope that he will trust me enough to share, and ask for my feedback. So far he has, especially as his dad died several years ago in an auto accident. Single parent is a tough role, but my Danny has been an enormous help. I owe him much for that, of course I love him all the more for it too.

However, it became obvious to me that this subject was an important concern to the youth. In fact I couldn’t very well avoid it when he asked me directly, “Mom, if I were going to die a virgin, would you have sex with me?”

Wise woman that I am, I turned to him with words of comfort and understanding, laughing off any embarrassment and diffusing the sexual tension with a witty (but insightful) remark that both lets him down gently, yet allows him to save face – right? Nope! – “Huh?” I respond.

We are sitting in the living room. He’s on the couch, I occupy the easy chair and I had a busy workday. Brain frazzled, I was blindsided and didn’t have the energy to protest such a wild and outrageous question. He caught that I was befuddled, so pressed on with the topic to clarify his inquiry. “I mean – what if I had a deadly illness and the doctor only gave me a week to live – but I’m strong enough to have sex – would you let me die a virgin? . . . Or would you instead take pity on me and fuuh . . uh .. make love to me, your dying son?

I was struggling with both the mental image of my son in a hospital bed, and me astride him; a vision filled with grieving, and yes – pity, and . . was that a little bit of lust?

He evidently had been putting some considerable thought to the subject, since he was prepared with another scenario. “Or what if,” he continued, “I had to go to war, and it was very uncertain if I was coming back. Would you let your son die a virgin? NO! Better yet, let’s say a huge asteroid is about to crash into the Earth and the world is going to end – end in sixty minutes – I’m a virgin; if we do it, who’s going to know? What does it matter, the end is near, let’s screw while we have once last chance! Let me have my first and only time with a woman. Best yet, with the woman I most want to make love to. You, mom, I want you to be my first, my last my only one.”

Sounded like an old Righteous Brother’s lyric, but this one I could field. “Listen Dan – I haven’t had sex in nearly four years. If that’s the last and only time we have left to . . fuck, good old fashion Anglo-Saxon word, sure, if you haven’t lost your cherry, Momma will show you the ropes for the last hour of our lives, and make you wish we could screw forever. . . . Know why?”

“Uh . . because your horny, too?”

“Yeah . . more importantly, because I love you and of course would want to have you happy in the last minutes of your life, just as I have wanted you to be happy from the very first moments of your life, and all the time between. Why are you afraid of dying a virgin? Where did that come from?”

“Can I confess something to you?”

“You’re a virgin?” My raised eyebrow and tone of voice indicated my guess was sardonic.

“No . . I mean, yes – I’m a v-i-g-i-n. What I want to confess is that I want to lose my virginity to you.”

Fortunately I stifled my urge to bark out a laugh. Poor guy was serious. “But what’s with the death business? Why do you have to be dying for me to make love to you?” Immediately I saw the gaping opening I had left.

He jumped right in.”Does that mean that I don’t have to die for you to . . fuck me?”

However, the adrenalin was now flowing, and I was seeping other secretions at the juncture of my thighs as well. These had a temporary reviving effect on my repartee and I drew inspiration from an old George C. Scott film. “Suppose,” I suggested, “that we were stranded on a desert island for a long time, and now you’re a man and still a virgin; furthermore, we have no idea when we are going to be rescued, so I decide to teach you the facts of life. I’d be both your sex-education professor and your lab partner, for . . experiments.”

“If that would be the sort of conditions where we might get-it-on, then what about . . He took a minute to think. Let’s say you are are at a masked-ball orgy, like…”

“Like ‘Eyes Wide Shut’ with Tom Cruise.” I filled in.

“Yeah . . but now when we find ourselves in a room alone together, and we have gotten naked except for our masks . .”

I caught his train of thought. Only his most closest family members knew that Danny had a ‘rare-y on his dairy’, a raspberry colored small irregular patch, not unlike the fruit itself, on his derriere. “And I see your birthmark!”

“Then, would you still go ahead and let me jump your bones? Remember you went to the orgy independently and intended to get laid, I’m of age, nobody will ever know . . “

“We’ll know.”

“And we’ll never tell.”

“But we’ll know, and remember, remember how good it was, and want to again .