It began deep within my sub-consciousness. A warm glow that felt merely pleasant, gradually it became nicer and nicer until the warmth of it became a heat, a heat that grew out all over me and suddenly I realized I was coming.

My eyes opened at the same time as my mouth and I screamed out my pleasure as I came, my legs were wide open and his mouth was between them, his lips clamped limpet-like onto my cunt. Involuntarily I arched my back up off the bed, the scream lingering on my lips.

I knew I'd already lost control of my bladder because I heard him gulping noisily. My hands in his hair gripped and pulled. I felt a finger sliding knuckle deep into my anus and I came again.

I was still contorting with pleasure as he slithered up over me and entered my wetness, his lips and mouth tasted of my golden offering as I kissed him hungrily. His gigantic penis was every bit as hard as it had been the first time he fucked me, but it still gave me pleasure; serviced me, shagged me at every opportunity and I craved it. It was like a drug and I was an addict!

"You're fucking me," I whispered into his ear as he cupped my buttocks and rammed savagely up to where I'd first given him life, "You're violating your own mother's cunt."

I drew his face down to mine and our tongues duelled wetly, I sucked the tiny droplets of my own urine out of every corner of his mouth and dug my nails into his naked back.

"Yes," he hissed, "And you fucking love it."

We moved together perfectly born out of many hours of practice, Every one of his forward thrusts was matched by one of mine, I felt our pubic bones coming together, I felt his heavy balls banging between my buttocks and I laughed out loud as I knew I'd soon be coming for the umpteenth time since we became lovers.

The scandal had been well hushed up almost nineteen years ago when I gave birth to him in a private nursing home paid for by my lover's father.

I was just three months past my seventeenth birthday and my lover was nineteen. But if anything, I'd been the one who seduced him.  We'd met outside the school gates and walked hand in hand down to our secret place in the local woods. 

Once we were out of sight of everyone, I stopped and taking my panties off, I'd handed them to him. I then leaned back against a tree and pulled my school skirt up so he could see my hairless little cunt that was his for the taking.

His penis had been the first one I'd ever seen, but even after we'd done it, I still wanted to hold and kiss it. I wanted to wipe it clean with my panties and feel his sperm between my legs as I skipped home without a care in the world. But the care and worry were already inside me!

As per the agreement my parents signed with his parents, I was allowed to hold my son briefly, all too briefly before he was whisked away to be reared as their own by my lover's parents and I was left alone with my tears and my pain.

I was well provided for as I grew up, a private school and a small allowance, as well as one for my parents, made sure we all kept quiet. I knew they'd named him William, but in the agreement I signed I agreed not to try to see or contact him in any way at all until his eighteenth birthday. Then he would be told the truth and given the chance to meet me if he so desired.

My allowance was increased every year and when I left school, I found a job as a trainee IT consultant with a company in London and my ex-lover's parents even found me a small house near to the office.

The head of the company I worked for was a lady named Margaret, a very pretty lady in her forties and it took her less than a week to seduce me into her bed.

Margaret taught me everything, she was an amazing lady who taught me how to dress so that I would always feel sexy and confident, out went all my tights and sensible knickers, in came stockings and wispy little suspender belts, g-strings, thongs and lacy little panties.

I've always had quite large breasts so she showed me how to show off my cleavage in skimpy sling bras and together we bought a whole new load of dresses and sweaters, all low cut to show off my assets.

She taught me how to enjoy my own body, that masturbating was a pleasure to be shared with a loved one and I was an avid pupil.

She hired a young couple one weekend and we had sex with them both many times. It was he who introduced me to anal sex and I came so strongly that I squirted and ran red-faced into the bathroom to clean myself up.

After they left, Margaret persuaded me that it was one of the sexiest sights she'd ever seen and asked me to squat over her mouth to relieve myself. It became a regular part of our lovemaking after that night and I began to love it as much as she did.

Sometimes we would attend a function wearing nothing but stockings beneath our long, clinging evening gowns.  The thrill of releasing little dribbles of pee as we chatted was more than enough to keep us on the brink of orgasm all night and the sex we shared on our return home was absolutely mind-blowing.

I stayed with Margaret as her employee and lover for four years before branching out to start my own IT company, still with my son in mind and the home that I wanted him to share with me.

The target I had in my mind was one million pounds, William had been reared with money and I was determined that if he did choose to come and live with me and our allowances stopped, as no doubt they would, I would  be able to keep up the standard of living we'd both been used to.

I was twenty when I started the company from the living room of my little house. Two years later I moved into an office and took on two members of staff and four years later I had to move again to larger premises and take on more staff.

It took me another three years to achieve my aim. Three more years without anyone to share my success with, but I was single-minded and I got my pleasure alone in my bed whenever I needed it.

Mum died that year and dad followed her just three months later of a broken heart. They were still as much in love as they'd ever been.

A well-known IT company made me an offer a year later of two point six million pounds. I sold up lock stock and barrel. I'd made it and I took my first holiday in almost ten years!

As I drove into the little Cornish fishing village, I saw it, a cottage half-hidden from the road. A For Sale sign was standing like a talisman beside the rickety front gate. 

After checking into a lovely little hotel just across the road, I rang the estate agents and asked for a viewing appointment. Then I ate a beautiful dinner and sat at the bar chatting to Stan and his wife Betty who owned the hotel.

I told them of my interest in the cottage and said that I was going to look at it the following morning.

"It belongs to us, so I'll take you now," Betty laughed, "Why should we pay the agent's fees?"

And then went on to tell me the agent's had it up for three-quarters of a million, but if I could reach an agreement with her and Stan, they wouldn't have to pay them their fee.

I think from the moment I walked in through the front gate (the rickety one,) I loved it. The long rear gardens consisted mainly of a lawn on either side of a concrete path that led down to a small privet hedge.

"Watch your step," she said and gripped my elbow, "It's a fair old drop down there."

Cautiously, I looked through the hedge and automatically stepped back.

"Oh my God." I giggled and peered forward again to look down at the long, golden beach below.

She answered the question before I asked it.

"It's about a hundred feet down," she smiled, "Stan kept meaning to cut steps into the cliff side but he never seemed to get round to it."

The inside was in need of decoration, but I wanted it and made her an on the spot offer of seven hundred and twenty-five thousand, which she accepted there and then. The deal went through in under a week, during which I began decorating the main living room and spent most afternoons in Truro choosing furniture.

As soon as the deal went through, I moved in and worked like a slave, painting and hanging wallpaper, Stan and Betty insisted that I ate at the hotel at least twice a day and absolutely refused to take a penny for it.

'You're very single-minded dear," Betty said one evening as I sat at the bar with them drinking a large brandy, "Why don't you take a break?"

There was less than seven weeks to go until William's eighteenth birthday and I found myself telling those lovely people my life story and that I wanted him more than anything else in life.

"I've thought of him every single day for the last eighteen years," I said and felt the sudden sickly fear of rejection. 'What if he wouldn't even see me? What if he was happy where he was and just refused point blank? What if? What if?'

The kitchen was next, I tiled two walls and wood panelled the other two. Then I bought a big wood burning stove that burnt coal as well and would heat the whole house in winter.

An old style oak table and chairs came next, along with a microwave, a chest freezer, a fridge freezer, a washing machine and a tumble drier, I purchased a couple of old oil paintings from a car boot sale and sent them to a local gallery to be cleaned and restored and with just a week to go, I had an idea.

"Who owns the field next door to the cottage?" and Stan laughed.

"I do, why?”

"Will you sell it to me?"

"It's over a whole square acre you know."

"I want to start a little market garden business."

"You'll do well if you can succeed," Stan told me, "We have our vegetables delivered twice a week from Truro, if we could get them fresh every day, it would be a big bonus."

I agreed on a price with him and two days later, I hired a tractor and driver and within three days I was planting seeds and bedding plants.

I put in four rows of everything I could think of, it was long, back-breaking work, but I stuck at it.  Day after day, I just about managed to stagger up into a hot bath every night. The cottage needed a lot of work doing, but at least I was trying to secure a future income and I was pleased with my efforts.

It seemed to take the little two car diesel train an age to crawl into the station. It had been two days since his birthday and just a day since the letter arrived through the letterbox announcing that unless he heard otherwise from me, he wanted to come down to visit me in Cornwall. There was a phone number and an address, but I used neither. I just sat in my living room and cried.

I was crying because I hadn't seen him in his pram as a baby. I hadn't been there when he took his first faltering step. Someone else took him to school for the very first time. In short, I cried out of self-pity.

The carriages finally groaned to a halt.

I was devastated, they were the only ones on the train, anxiously, I strode down the platform looking in through the grimy windows, the train terminated there, but there was always a chance that he'd fallen asleep.

"Hello, mum."

I turned around and he was there. It was the young man who'd helped the woman off.

"I was just helping a lady off," he said shyly, but even as he spoke, his eyes filled with tears as mine were too.

"William."

"Mum."

We embraced, holding each other tightly whilst we both cried and cried.

"I'm never going to let you go again," I said as we walked the short distance up the hill to the cottage.

"That's probably just as well, mum," he laughed, "Dad was really annoyed at me wanting to come here. It was only through the solicitor's letter to me that I knew anything about you. We had the most bloody awful row. They weren't going to tell me anything at all about you."

"That wouldn't have been very fair."

"No, it wouldn't. It was a shock, I can tell you, but I'd have been really mad if they hadn't have told me. They were making you out to be the villain of the piece."

"Oh," I said, "Did your dad tell you how old I was and how old he was when I conceived?"

"No, is it relevant?"

"Well, it's difficult to be a villain when you're only seventeen."

"Oh my God mum, really?"

"Yes darling, really. Hey, I just called you darling!"

"Yes," he leaned over and kissed my cheek, "And I just kissed you, I'll tell you something mum, I bet dad wishes he'd stood by you."

"Why?"

"Because you're a doll, that's why. You only look about twenty-one."

I laughed with him as we walked in through the gate. It was still hanging off, I had been busy enough without bothering with that.

"Oh wow, mum," he said and whistled in admiration, "This place is something else."

"Yes, I've worked hard on it."

That impressed him as well, "You've done it yourself?" He asked.

"Apart from ploughing the field, yes."

"Field, what field?"

"The one next door, look."

We went outside and he looked across at the rows and rows of vegetables barely visible above the soil.

"You planted all them?"

"Every single one of them, William. That's why my back's killing me."

"You need a massage."

"Oh God, yes," I laughed, "I'd kill for a nice gentle massage."

"I just happen to have a qualification in massaging, mum. I'll give you great one later on."

I didn't believe him for a moment, but I laughed and said I would hold him to it.

We went in then and I showed him his bedroom. "Go get a shower and I'll cook us something. Fancy a steak on the barbecue, it's a lovely afternoon?"

"You got me drooling, mum."

I took that as a yes and hauled out the brand new barbecue I'd bought the previous day. By the time he reappeared in pristine white trousers and matching tee shirt, the steaks were sizzling nicely.

"Hey, look at you," I smiled, "You're enormous!"

"That's what she said," he muttered softly, but not too softly that I didn't hear it.

"Who?" I asked and he reddened as if I'd caught him unaware.

"Nothing, mum. Sorry, just thinking aloud."

I threw the steaks onto two plates full of salad and it took me less than a minute to fry two eggs and add them to the plates.

"Steak and fried egg salad?" he looked at me and smiled and it was my turn to go red.

"I meant to boil the eggs, but I forgot, having you around is flustering me."

"Should I leave?"

"Over my dead body, buster." I drew myself up to my full four foot eleven and three-quarter inches and held the spatula like an axe ready to strike.

"I'll eat, mum. I'll eat."

He did and he devoured it all in no time whilst I looked on in amazement.

"Oh my God," I laughed, "How the hell am I supposed to feed that appetite?"

He wiped some egg yolk from his chin and stood up.

"I was never allowed to eat meat before, they're vegans."

I looked up at him in surprise.

"But that means that -."

"I know," he laughed, "That was the first time in my life I've ever tasted meat."

"I'm sorry darling, you should have told me."

"Not likely, mum," he guffawed, "It was beautiful, can we have it again tomorrow?"

"You can have it as many times as you like, darling." I beamed and felt a rush of immense love for this young Adonis.

***

William

When the train pulled into the station and I saw the woman standing there looking anxiously at me and the girl. I didn't dare hope that it was her, she was gorgeous!

She was very small though and as I was over six feet, I couldn't imagine her giving birth to me, but I helped the girl off with her pushchair and I saw the woman looking in through all the windows. It had to be her.

After saying goodbye to the girl, I stepped behind the woman and said as softly as I could. "Hello, mum."

"William," was all she said, then we were embracing and kissing, hugging and crying right there on the platform. It was easily the most emotional moment of my life. Hers too, I thought!

She was wearing a pink top that displayed a fair amount of cleavage and a baby blue skirt that showed off her suntanned legs.She had a way of walking, swinging her hips that had me thinking she looked more like a twenty-one-year-old than the mother of a tall, strapping eighteen-year-old lecher!

I thought the cottage was fantastic, even though it still needed some work and she smiled with real pleasure when I told her so. Then...