Side Effects 03 - Prescription Refill

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"Stan," his mom called through the house. "I'm heading into town. Do you need anything?"
"Where you going?" He looked up from the sketch he was working on at his desk. He'd started doing erotic drawings and this one was a dragon and a female warrior. The dragon's tail was embedded in the muscular woman's pussy. The look on her face was supposed to be ecstasy, but it looked more like a grimace. He'd erased it four times already but couldn't get it just right.
"The drug store, but I can stop other places too."
"You refilling your anxiety medication?" Stan couldn't help but smile. He and his mom had been engaging in regular sexual sessions because her meds were stimulating her libido. She needed the effect of the drug and Stan had really started enjoying its side effect. They were being careful about the whole incest thing, so he hadn't screwed his mom, but he'd been doing it a lot lately in his fantasies. Maybe she'd need another of her 'special' sessions after she returned.
Gripping the boner he'd sprouted while drawing, the warrior looked a lot like his mom; he didn't want her delaying in town. "No, I'm good."
"I shouldn't be long." He heard the door snick closed. A minute later, their car engine rumbled to life. Stan went back to his sketch.
"Is that me?" Mom's voice startled Stan. He'd been so focussed on his drawing, that he didn't hear her return.
Startled, he jerked, covered the drawing with his arms. He was glad she hadn't returned while he was squeezing the erection he still had. He wasn't comfortable sharing his art, especially since he knew it was his mom on the paper. She was in a rather provocative position.
"Hey," his mother tried to move his hands, but he resisted. "Did you give me stretch marks?"
"Mom," Stan heard the plead in his voice, hating the whinny sound of it. "No one said it's you."
"It sure looks like me. You are a talented artist, why would you include those ugly things?"
"There is nothing ugly about you. You are a wonderful woman and person. Besides, maybe you just saw some shading."
"I know stretch marks when I see them. I've looked at them for more than twenty years now."
"And that's why they aren't ugly. I know your breasts grew when you were pregnant with me. That happens to pretty much all women. The skin can't keep up and so some of it breaks up a little, leaving what I call 'love scars." Stan reached out, placed his fingers alongside his mother's breasts, supported them. "You did that for me, and that is a beautiful thing. Kind of a tattoo of our first bonding. That's why they are beautiful."
"Awe, Stan," he loved how her voice changed, the tilt of her head, the tears welling in her eyes. He knew he'd chosen the right words, the right sentiment, to help her feel better about herself. The nicest part was, he really felt this way, was so thankful for what she'd endured in order to be his mom.
Before this mom-son moment could slide into a bawling fest, he asked, "Get your pills ok?"
"Yeah, no big deal." She gave him a strange, out of the side of her eyes look.
"That's great." He was uncertain what else to say. He knew what was on his mind but couldn't blurt it out.
"Are you wondering if I need a session?" A smile blossomed, making small creases around her eyes, mouth.
Stan stuttered, flustered, it was exactly what he was thinking, hoping. Imagining himself as the dragon, ravaging the warrior princess on the page, left him feeling pretty horny, but, of course, only if her needs were being met. Instead of responding, he just stared at her, letting her make the first move.
"You have grown to know me so well." She pulled her t-shirt over her head then reached behind her back to undo her bra.
"Let me do that." Stan reached for her, pulled her forward by the hips, hugged her. He didn't want this to go fast. There was something to be said about savouring these moments, he knew their sessions weren't going to go on forever. She'd find another man, move on from him. He wanted that for her but, he reached up to the clasp, he wanted this for himself right now.
As her bra popped over her breasts, Stan reached around her, gripped them, hugged her close, pressing his face to her head. She raised her hands to his. When his hug loosened, she twisted in his arms.
"Let's see if we can scratch your itch, Beth." Stan leaned in and gave her a long, lingering, tongue-filled kiss. She responded back, pressing her pelvis against him, pulling his head tight to hers. She gave one of her little purrs that vibrated through him, right down to his stiff dick.
Pulling his t-shirt over his head, Stan stepped back, sat on his bed so she could straddle his leg. After a few minutes of her grinding on him, while he played with her tits, coaxing their nipples to full erection, she said, "This isn't as intense as it used to be."
"What would you like to try?" Stan flicked through a thousand fantasy images, many of them with his dragon tail impaling her pussy, sıhhiye escort but he held back from giving any voice. These sessions were for her. The fact that she wasn't fully satisfied until he was, was gravy.
"Can you lay on me? I like that."
They reversed positions, her pushing herself back on his bed, spreading her legs so he could press his crotch to hers. Stan dry humped her. It was nice but didn't stimulate him very much. Something must have showed on his face because she said, "You don't like this."
"Do you?" He kept rocking his pelvis against her, trying to run his cock along her vagina, but with so many layers of cloth between them, it was difficult to tell. Too, the head of his penis was constrained by the waistband of his boxers and, if he wasn't careful, it hurt. He didn't want her to know that though.
"Well, its nice, makes me feel close to you but, from a sexual point of view, I don't think I'll get the relief this is supposed to bring. Would you mind using your hand?"
"Sure Beth, your wish..." He rolled off her, moved his hand to her thigh, began rubbing, pressing, squeezing. Her hips rocked against him. "Like that?"
"Yes," she panted.
Stan continued, trying to vary his pace, pressure, angle, to give her the most enjoyment. He placed his thumb where he imagined her clitoris to be and ground down with it. Her breath panted, grew deeper. He felt moisture seep through her pants.
After a few minutes, she pushed his hand away. Sweat stood in beads on her forehead, in the fine hairs of her eyebrows. Her breasts had grown slick, and Stan felt them up, sliding his hand over them, relishing the silky feel.
"You're not done," he stated in a flat voice. He knew what her orgasms looked and felt like and she hadn't had one. Why was she stopping him.
"No, not yet, but..." She bit her lower lip, flicked her eyes to his face then away.
"What mom, er Beth, just tell me. Anything." He knew she wanted something but was nervous to ask.
"Would you," again she paused, and frustration bubbled up in Stan. He pushed it down, calmed himself. "With your hand." Her eyes flicked down to her crotch.
"I was." Stan was confused.
"I mean, inside."
Then it blossomed in his mind, she wanted his hand in her pants. He'd done that last time and she'd responded with a quick and massive orgasm. He'd used the memory of the feel of her juices, the roughness of her pubic hair, the softness of her slick vagina to feed a perpetual stream of fantasy images. Now she was asking him to do that again. Sometimes it was so easy to be a good son.
"Sure Beth, I'd be happy to." Happy was such an understatement of the sensations rocketing through his cock. It was pressing so hard in his pants he was certain it was going to tear through the material. Struggling to keep his hands from shaking, he undid the button of her trousers, loosened the fly then slid his hand inside.
Beth gasped. Her legs spread wider. Her hips moved, encouraging his fingers to find her, slide inside. She shuddered.
In his mind Stan screamed. 'No, don't cum yet.' Even though that event would lead to her working on him until he ejaculated, he wanted this session to last longer. The feel of her pussy, the heat, the slick, was so erotic, he didn't want it to end too quick. He wanted to savor this like a perfect steak, a fine wine, an imported beer.
Shifting his weight onto his hip, he changed the angle of his hand in her pants to reduce her stimulation, hopefully. She wiggled her butt over and Stan surmised she was searching for maximum effect. Whatever, she was getting hot down there. He slid his fingers in and out, slow, deep, feeling the muscles of her vagina grip at him. It felt like it was trying to draw his hand in, eat him up. That gave him an idea.
Propped as he was on his hip and elbow, it was difficult for him to rub her breasts while masturbating her. He got up on his knees. That made things easier, but still not good.
"Beth, can I take your pants off" My hand is cramping."
Her eyes shot open, wide. "No. I don't think that would be appropriate."
His mind scrambling, he suggested, "If you're nervous about me seeing you naked, we can leave your panties on." He paused a moment so she wouldn't feel pressured. "You've seen me naked enough. I'm not certain why you feel that way. It's ok though, with your panties on, I will still be able to work easier."
"Oh, don't stop what you're doing." Using one hand, she encouraged him to keep manipulating her.
"I just think it'll be better for you, like when I finally took my pants off. Freer."
"But it's my cooch." She scrunched her face, placed a hand over her crotch as though blocking his view of it.
"Mom, Beth, I have my hand in your cooch." He gave it a little wiggle for emphasis. They both laughed and Stan knew he was convincing her. Now he pressed it. "Besides, I thought we might try something, and clothes will just be in the way."
Scooting her butt away from him, twisting to the side, she pulled herself off his hand. He held that şırnak escort hand up, rubbing his fingers. "See how slippery this is?" Her face reddened. "Don't be embarrassed, I love how you respond to me, but I was thinking, if we use some lubricant, we can rub against each other, stimulate each other that way.
"I'll have to think about that, but I guess it'll be ok if you remove my pants, just the pants, and get back to having your hand in my cooch."
Stan was happy to comply. With her pants out of the way, it was much easier to masturbate her. Able to now access her via the waistband and through the leg holes, the cramps in his hand were banished and he was able to bring her to a body-convulsing climax through a series of intense fingerings and gentle stimulations. When she came, her pelvis thrusts grew urgent, frantic, almost violent. Her purrs and murmurs escalated to grunts and moans and one final screech. That response was so intense, Stan had to look to her face to ensure he wasn't hurting her. In that moment, he saw the look he wanted to capture in his drawing. He tried to commit it to memory.
After five minutes while Stan became gentle, nurturing, bringing her back to earth, her breathing settled, her heart rate slowed. She placed a hand on his, where he was cupping her crotch. He looked at her when she spoke.
"Now you." She moved her hand to his crotch. "Oh, you really need some attention." Her eyebrows raised and a smile curled into her lips.
Stan knew this was the time to press the issue he'd raised. "But I'm not done with you yet Beth."
"You have more for me?"
"But of course." He smiled, slipping a finger into her vagina. He felt a rush of juices and knew she was being aroused again. "However, you have to agree," he snapped the elastic of her panties, "these gotta go."
"Oh, the lubricant idea." Her eyes darted around the room. Stan knew she was uncertain, nervous, but the growing heat around his hand told him the thought excited her too.
"I'm not certain your hesitation. We're not screwing, just doing what we've been doing, just a little different. Kind of spicing it up."
"If I say yes now, can I say no if I feel too uncomfortable?" Her voice was low, and Stan realized how vulnerable she felt.
"Absolutely, Beth. That goes for both of us, right?"
"Ok, then." She drew the words out then reached for her undies.
"No." Stan stopped her. "Let me do that."
"Okay, but you first." She waggled a finger toward the pants he still wore.
Stan stood, then undid his pants, moving slow, watching her watch him. First his belt, then the snap on his jeans, then the fly, letting each tooth click before pulling down, past the next one.
"Will you hurry up?" Beth propped herself up on one elbow, squeezing her thighs together. Stan smiled, knowing he was teasing her, and she was enjoying it. His knees weakened as a rush of desire coursed through him.
With his fly all the way down, Stan hooked his thumb into the waistband of his underwear, pulled it down until the hair rasping against his thumb told him his pubes were now exposed. "Are you sure you want me to continue?"
"You little bugger." His mother sat up, a grin breaking on her face. "Get that thing out here."
Grinning wide, Stan yanked his pants down, freeing his erection. A shudder surged through him knowing his mother was seeing him nude. "Your turn," he leaned over her and slid her panties off.
Before he got a good look, she pulled one knee up, crossing it over her other leg. "Don't be shy," he encouraged her, gripping her ankles. "Let Stanny see where he came from."
A look crossed her face and Stan knew he'd said the wrong thing. She'd called him 'Stanny' when he was a young child, until he'd insisted she stop. Afraid he'd spoiled her mood by reminding her of their true relationship, he struggled to smooth things over. "I mean, let's see that love spot."
She let him adjust her legs, looking up at the ceiling. Stan kissed inside her thighs as he crawled up her body. Not wanting to upset her, he rushed to her breasts, smothering them in kisses, suckles, nips. He was conscious of his prick rubbing on her, being squeezed between them, when he settled his weight a bit.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked, nodding her head toward the bottle of lubricant on the side table.
"Oh yeah." Stan rolled off her and picked up the bottle. Kneeling beside her, he dribbled some on her stomach, then in a line up between her breasts. "Care for a bit of a massage?" He rubbed his hands together after dousing them as well.
"Mm. Sounds good." Beth stretched, arching her back, then settled. Stan began rubbing, squeezing, feeling her as he spread the lubricant all over the front of her. "Not too much. We don't want to stain the cover."
"Stop being a mom all the time." Stan rubbed some on himself as well. Her body glistened, slick under his hands. The smell of coconut permeated his sinuses, cascaded down the back of his throat. When he rubbed her between her legs, the aroma of her sex mingled, söke escort heightened his enjoyment. Then he made sure his cock was well lubed before laying on top of her, his erection against her stomach. Wiggling and writhing, they slid and slithered. Stan's cock thrummed with feelings. He had thought he couldn't get any harder, hornier, but he was wrong.
Beth squirmed under him, her pelvis rocking. He cupped her crotch, sliding his fingers around her vagina, then in, then to her clitoris. Her breathing deepened, purred in and out of her. Little moans escaped her lips. She reached between them, gripped his cock, gave it firm squeezes. Every time her hand loosened a bit, he slid his dick through her fingers. When she squeezed again as he pushed back in, the sensations exploded all the way into his brain.
Then she let him go, grasped him by the shoulders, digging her nails in. She pumped her hips so hard his penis rasped through her pubic hair, then her vagina was sliding up and down the shaft of his cock. Stan wondered if she was going to have him enter her, but then realized she was stimulating her clit on his dick, the way she had on his arm. She was cumming and spasms wracked her whole body.
Her nails dug into his skin and Stan was certain there'd be scratches. He concentrated on keeping up her stimulation so she would get maximum enjoyment. He knew he wasn't far behind, having her naked, slicked up like this was a massive turn on for him. It sounded like she was trying to talk but only mews and murmurs escaped her. As her orgasm continue to tear through her, she gripped his cock again, tugging and rubbing it. It was rough, a bit violent, but it felt incredible too. And then he was spurting, ejecting massive sperm to mix with the oil and their sweat.
"Yes, my sweet boy, come for mom," Beth puffed into his ear. Stan couldn't keep from wriggling more, he loved how his cock slid in and out of her hand, how she massaged its head. She kept up her squeezes until it began to soften. "You liked that."
"Loved it, Beth."
"Mm, me too." She lay quiet for a few moments, her chest rising and falling. Stan felt her heartbeat slowing, he had his ear against her chest. "Could use a nap now."
Stan was drifting into quiet slumber when she gave him another stiff squeeze. "Again?" she asked.
Rousing, Stan realized he was getting hard. In those moments on the edge of sleep, he'd been having erotic thoughts. He propped himself up on one elbow and smiled at her. "Sorry?"
"It's alright. Don't be sorry. You take care of me, I take care of you." She leaned her head in and took him in her mouth.
Stan's first reaction was to pull away, this wasn't part of their arrangement. But then, them being fully naked together had never been part of it either. "Wait Mom, er Beth. If you're ok with this, it might be better."
Looking at him with a quizzical expression, Stan got on his knees and had her turn around, so she was kneeling, but facing away from him. He pressed his cock against the back of her thighs, then between them. She gasped, started to protest but he reassured her. "Not screwing, just this."
And then he was pumping his hips, his cock sliding between her thighs, but not in her vagina, against it though. With each thrust, he rubbed the top of her pussy, stimulating her clitoris. She began moving with him. Looking down at her ass, Stan realized he was so close to fucking her, and that thought started him cumming again. He thrust hard and fast. She must have had similar thoughts because she began spasming through a massive orgasm. They continued pistoning, thrusting, cumming for what felt like hours. Finally, Stan crashed to the bed, and she flopped beside him. They were spent.
"That was my most intense orgasm ever, Stan. How did you do that?"
"It's called thighing," he started to explain.
"Not that, you dolt." She let out a sharp breath. "Making me cum so fast and so intense. It felt like I was going to fold in on myself."
"Youthful enthusiasm?" He smiled at her. His eyes drooped and he felt himself slipping down that slumber slide again. "Sex sure is hard work..." and then he was sleeping.
Two days later, Stan was working at his drawing again. Remembering the expression on his mother's face as he'd brought her to orgasm, gave him the inspiration to redo the face in the sketch, getting the desire into it that he was looking for. It also raised an erection.
Since their last session, where he's humped her from behind, thighed her, he seemed to sport constant wood. He'd resisted masturbating, wanting to save himself for her next session. His mom hadn't helped his situation much either. She'd taken to walking around the house in all forms of dress and undress. Lots of undress. "Now that you've seen me naked, I can save on laundry and having to make decisions around what to wear every day.
Stan had resisted joining her in that nudist activity, certain that if she saw his level of arousal, she'd insist on more sessions than she would otherwise. He was determined to keep this activity in response to her medication side effects, not his own libido. Today though, he'd foregone getting dressed, 'To give me the proper inspiration for finishing this sketch,' he'd told himself. Truth was, it felt good being naked. And, since his mom had gone into town shopping, 'dressed I hope,' he had the house to himself.