Rehearsal with Mom

I'm half speechless, unsure how I would feel about such a rumor. Much less how Isabella would feel. "But how would such a rumor even hold water?" Mom asks. "Everybody with a smartphone knows how sex scenes are done. They all know that even some of the most believable sex scenes are smoke and mirrors. If they can't see the actual intercourse they'll know the truth."

A slightly devilish grin spread across Mrs. Sapp's face. "Well, that is why we want Shawn to actually do it. We want you to have real sex with Isabella Monroe. On film."

"What!?" Mom and I both exclaim simultaneously, me unbelieving, her incredulous.

"It's the only way to make it believable. Even though the studio will deny it, you will deny it, and Mrs. Monroe will deny it, but it'll look completely true on the scene, giving life to the rumor. We'll work in low lighting, enough light to make out silhouettes and body shapes, and for a minute or so, glimpses of real sex will be on screen. The viewer will just barely be able to see Sebastian's tongue slip between Margot's labia and her rear cheeks. The root of Sebastian's penis is gonna be seen going into Mrs. Delacroix's mouth and then her vagina."

"But Isabella would never go for this!" I assert. "She's married!"

Another sinister smirk from our executive producer. "She has already agreed to it."

"And her husband!?" Mom asks, shocked.

"Mr. Monroe? He need not know," Ellen says simply. "He's no actor so his response to it all needs to be genuine. His outrage over the rumor should actually help us out - create more publicity. Just let us worry about all that. All we need is you, everything else is in place. Trust me, Shawn, you want to take this deal. There will be fame in it as well as fortune. We're willing to increase your pay by thirty percent. To start with."

I look to Mom. Mom looks to me. "No need to make you decision now," says Mrs. Sapp. "Take a day or two. When you've made up your mind, just let me know." Mom and I stand up to leave. "Oh, and I don't need to tell you this conversation never happened, right?" We nod our understanding as we exit the office.

The rest of the night is spent in pregnant silence. I wonder what Mom thinks of Ellen's proposition. Given her jealousy of Isabella, I'd say she's against the deal. When I contemplate taking the deal, I can only think how terrified I would be, performing in front of the cameras, the director and at least a couple other crew members. And when I think of how nervous I would be, I think on the first kiss scene, how petrified I was, and how I overcame that fear; rehearsing with my mother.

And this is the only reason I don't turn down the offer right away. Though she's objectively gorgeous, I have little desire to have sex with Isabella - but I'm dying for any excuse to kiss, caress and say dirty things to my mom. And then, if I'm lucky, we'll lose ourselves in the scene and writhe together until we climax like we did on the patio. So to keep that hope alive, I remain open minded.

"So, what do you think about Ellen's plan?" I ask, breaking an hour of quiet.

"As your agent, I say do it. But ultimately it's up to you."

Mom is trying to sound nonchalant and professional, but I can sense the underlying emotion in her voice. She's at least a little disappointed I'm even considering it. And beneath the disappointment is a foundation of jealousy. I like it when Mom is jealous for me. She wants her baby boy all to herself.

"Can you believe she already agreed to have sex with me? The hottest woman over 40 wants me! I can't believe it!"

"She's a businesswoman. It's about the numbers." Mom's voice is cold. "And I'm sure she loves her husband. For her, it's just another role. Like a porn star." She glances up at me with a quick, condescending smirk, and then back to her laptop.

"I think I would be so nervous though-" I start to say, trying to segue over to a possible third rehearsal with my mother, but she cuts me off.

"I'm so tired," she sighs heavily and snaps her laptop shut with a pop. "I'm gonna go to bed. Do you mind sleeping in the other room, baby? I think I'm gonna stay in the nude after my bath."

"I- y- yeah, sure."

Mom gets up and walks past me before adding, "and about Isabella, do whatever you feel is best for you." And with that, my mother disappears for the night. I am unsure whether my gambit was wise. I sleep alone for the first time in several days.

One thing about my mother is that she doesn't at all lack confidence, so she doesn't shrink into self-consciousness like I feared she might. Instead, she fights back. She does not allow herself to think Isabella is more beautiful than she is, and she doesn't allow me to think so either.

My mother always dresses a little on the sexy side, but after seeing what she's wearing today, I now know she was being fairly modest. I didn't see her when I left the house, which had me worried, but I spot her eventually after a scene, wearing a dress that didn't cover much.

It was pure white, shorter than I knew was possible, making mom's shapely legs look irresistibly long. And where it did begin to cover her luminous skin, it was skintight, rising up to swaddle her perfectly rounded ass in silky white. Above, the dress loosened to a cowl neck that drooped between her swollen, tight tipped breasts. Her hair, soft and curly, her lips plump and rich with red.

When the director calls a wrap for the day, I'm anxious to get over to Mom. But because men are men, today she commands a lot of male attention and it takes a minute for them to fuck off. When I finally am alone with Mom, I hug her as usual, tight and affectionate, then kiss her modestly on her soft, red lips. Twice. "You look amazing," I whisper lustily, hands starting to roam into gray areas.

Mom leans close to my ear. "Would you say I was sexy, baby?"

My breath catches in my throat. There are people around. "Yes," I breath.

She moans teasingly. "You want me, baby?" Mom says, dripping with sex appeal.

I glance around. At the people who are still there, though they're not paying attention. "Oh god, Mom!" I rasp.

Just as I get desperate enough to slide my hands around to squeeze mom's ass, she pulls away and smiles, then quickly glances down at the protrusion she created in my pants. "I'll see you at home hon'," she smirks and waltzes carelessly away.

I take her words as some sort of an invitation, hurrying away as quickly as I am allowed. When I get home - that is, to my mother's house - Mom's nowhere to be found. I correctly presume she's in her bedroom. I step into her room through the wide-open door and see her just beginning to undress. She has just removed her heels and she turns toward me as she pulls the flimsy string at the back of her neck, letting the cloth bodice drop to pool around her waist.

I gawp at Mom's ripe breasts, my hard-on re-emerging in an instant. She slips her dress down her hips and the light fabric falls at her feet. She was not wearing any panties. I watch her ass wave side to side as she put her dress and heels away in the closet. Stark naked, she reappears and approaches me, walking slow.

"Take off your clothes, babe," Mom says and starts on my shirt buttons. My shoes and pants are off even before my shirt, but they all end up in a pile on the floor. "These too," Mom whispers as she pulls the waistband of my boxer briefs forward, politely and carefully stretching it around my lengthy erection and then down my legs, removing my last piece of clothing.

Mom steps close to me and I embrace her as she kisses me softly and says, "I'll take care of your laundry. Good night baby. See you tomorrow."

"W-what?" I say, not understanding. "I thought...," I'm not sure what I thought, or why. "I thought we could, y'know, sleep together.

Mom scoffed. "Baby, I'm sleeping nude tonight. I thought that was clear from how naked I am. And you know you can't control yourself when I'm naked. Look, your penis is already hard." As she says it, she takes my thick member in her hand, still in our embrace.

"Oh, Mom," I gasp in excitement. Still unable (or unwilling) to grasp the game and the fact I had already lost, I reach between my mother's legs, briefly touching her hot flesh before she squeezes my wrist and pulls my hand away.

"See? You can't resist me, Sweetheart, and you know it. Don't you?" She looks me in my eyes, still gripping my penis and apparently awaiting an answer. I have never felt so powerless, and never have I liked it so much.

I nod my head. "Yeah," I whisper, feeling smaller. "You're just so sexy, Mom. I want you."

Mom releases my cock and smiles. "I know baby. I know. And soon, you'll be able to fuck Isabella and imagine me."

By her impish red smile, I finally put the game together through my lust-hazy mind. It was a game of teasing and jealousy. "What if... what if I don't want to do it with her?" I ask, sensing this is what Mom ultimately wants to hear, reasoning that if I agree not to have sex with Isabella, I may actually have a real chance to sleep with Mom.

Mom simply shrugs, the devious smile painted permanently on her puffy lips. "Good night, baby. Sweet dreams." And before I know it, I'm on the other side of her closed door, naked and painfully horny. Sleep comes difficult.

After a few days though, Mom apologizes for her cruelty and things go back to almost normal. She explains to me that I shouldn't have tried to make her jealous of Isabella by calling her 'the hottest woman over forty.' I tell her I didn't mean it and affirm her superior sexiness. I am once again allowed in her bed after all is forgiven and we continue our intimate closeness.

Her bedroom attire is hardly modest, enticing me every night to pull her small tank top up and little pink panties aside. Or to lift up her short champagne colored nightie, knowing my roaming hands wouldn't be hindered by any panties. I lusted to tear open her sheer black one piece, being enticed all night and all morning by what could plainly be seen underneath. But I kept my hands mostly honest, treasuring Mom's company and our relationship over her body.

After another day of filming, Ellen Sapp is briefly seen on set. She only glances my way with that dangerous smirk of hers, probably still disappointed I turned down her offer a few days prior. In between scenes, I see her again, chatting sort of covertly with Isabella. After work, Mrs. Sapp disappears again and Isabella approaches me, chatting with me like she never had until the room is cleared of crew members. After only a half-minute of alone time, her intentions for meeting with me becomes abundantly clear: she's here to change my mind about the authentic sex scene. And she's determined to use whatever means necessary.

*****

When I finally make it home, Mom is sitting cross-legged on the couch with a glass of wine, staring blankly at the TV. She's wearing her fluffy don't-touch-me robe and barely acknowledges me when I sit next to her. I take a deep breath before my confession.

"Mom, I..., have something to tell you," I say somberly. She braces herself and prepares to listen. Another deep breath escapes my nose. "Where do I start," I mumble to myself. "After filming today, Isabella comes up to me, and already that seems weird because she only really talks to me during scenes. So we're talking and talking, about the Disney stuff and the show and her husband, just small talk really. And then, once the studio is empty, she starts to talk to me about Ellen's proposal, trying to get me to change my mind.

"I turn her down. And I have to say no again and again because she's coming at me from all different angles. After a long debate, she finally accepts my refusal and suggests we rehearse our scene the normal way. 'Just to be perfect,' she says, which I find odd because she never rehearses. But, seeing as how I can't rehearse with you anymore and the fact this scene is one of the most important erotic spots, I agree."

I inhale another breath and blow it out. Mom tenses. "We start doing the scene like normal. We're trading our lines smoothly, and then comes the part where Margaux drops to her knees and undoes Sebastian's pants. And..., then..., she pulls down my underwear too and she starts, y'know, fellating me! And-"

"Just stop," Mom says, obviously pained by the least part of my confession, her beautiful eyes tinged pink and misty. She puts her wine glass on the coffee table. "You don't have to tell me. I already heard from Ellen. I'm gonna go to bed. Good night, Shawn." She then strode quickly away to her room.

I sat feeling guilty for a while. She knows, I thought, but how? Isabella and I were alone the whole time, and she swore on her life she wouldn't tell my secret. Isabella didn't seem like the secret spilling type, and even if she were, I'd think it would take her more than twenty minutes to break a promise. So what could Ellen have told my mother? After sitting silently for a minute, I follow Mom to her room to find out.

"I know you don't think you're sleeping in my bed after you fucked that fucking woman!" Mom spat the moment I walked through the threshold, sitting up in her bed with the covers pulled all the way up to her chin.

"What!? No! I didn't fuck Isabella!" I exclaimed, almost deliriously, hurrying to the bedside.

"Ellen already told me!" Mom yells. "She wants you to do that scene so she sicked her slut dog on you to fuck you into submission. And you fucked her!"

"No, I didn't," I raise my voice, but my tone is almost laughing. It sounds ridiculous to me.

"Then what took you so long. I've been here for over an hour. Where have you been!?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you! I didn't fuck Isabella, but..., something else happened that I need to tell you."

Mom's anger slowly begins to subside as she studies the sincerity in my face, looking me in my eyes to see I was telling the truth. "So..., what happened?" she says, sounding relieved but wary.

"So..., she's fellating me," I begin again where I left off but immediately add, "but I stopped her after like five seconds, mom, I swear! And she tries again but I push her away, but she doesn't stop and all I can do is think of you, so I keep fighting her off. She's saying all her sexy lines and gets naked and basically tries to like, rape me or something! So, I get angry and grab her arms and shake her until she stops.

"When she finally gets the picture that I won't fuck her she puts her clothes back on and asks me why not. So, I just tell her I have a girlfriend. She calls my bluff and immediately asks for her name. The first name that comes to my mind is yours and I almost said it. The second thing that came to my mind is your middle name. Time running out, I say the next name that comes to my mind, 'Yolanda' again.

"And, for some Freudian reason, I don't correct myself. Like somewhere deep down I wanted somebody, anybody to know that I'm in love with you, Mama. And it felt so good to tell somebody. I knew I shouldn't have but saying it aloud to another person made it feel so real. So when Isabella laughed and called me a Mama's boy, I tell her I'm serious, that I licked your pussy once and that we came together one night and that every sex scene she and I do, I think of you. And that I can't do the scene because I felt like I was cheating on you.

"And then, believing me, she starts to ask me questions: how long has it been? Have we had sex yet? Do I plan to? What am I going to do? Why? And that's really what took so long. We were talking for a long time about the whole situation and she swore she wouldn't tell anybody."

Mom's countenance had softened completely, tears still welling in her sincere gray eyes. "I'm sorry I had to tell her, Mom. I just couldn't-"

"Take off your clothes," Mom says evenly, eyes still brimming with emotion.

"W-what?" I say, startled.

"I said...," Mom affirms somewhat forcefully, tossing her covers aside and from her bed, "strip." She stands before me, naked as she was born, an inch away, her sincere eyes piercing mine. Intimidated, I obeyed and began working on my shirt buttons, slowly, tentatively. What if this was another tease, another cruel joke to punish me for telling Isabella my deep dark secret. "Faster," Mom says, her breath warm against the front of my neck. I felt chills as I worked faster, removing my shirt and loosening the button and zipper of my pants.

Mom's eyes glided over my chest, and down my stone-like abs. She gnawed her lower lip as my jeans fell below my underwear, her eyes unmistakably fixed on the healthy bulge in the tight cotton. My eyes made a slow trail up the treasure trove of sexuality that was my mother's nude body, her bald pubic mound and puffy nether lips, her vicious curves, her bountiful, all-natural breasts, eventually resting on her face to determine whether she expected me to remove my underwear too.

Her eyes, fixed on my quickly swelling rod, told the whole story. I pushed my underwear to the floor and momentarily we stood, mother and son, naked as nature. "Get in bed," Mom orders, not stepping aside so that I have to brush past her. I obey, lying face-up on the sheets, never moving my eyes from her. She's like a goddess in this moment; confident, gorgeous, raw, and otherworldly.

Wordlessly, my mother follows me onto the bed, placing her knees beside my waist to straddle my abdomen, her slick heat hovering just above my aching shaft. "What are you doing?" I gasp in hushed tones as she leans down over me, so close I can feel her quick and labored breaths on my lips.

She kisses me. Slow, patient, and passionate. Not quick and modest, and not quick and dirty like stealing a treat she knows she can never keep. She kisses me long, savoring every second as if we have an eternity to indulge our truest desire. I realize a decision had been made, and I am in complete agreement. I always had been.

My hands caress at the curve of Mom's waist, tracing the luxurious contours of her immaculately soft, skin. She grasps my face delicately, caressing my head all around and lightly tugging my ears as kisses me. Our wet lips slide apart as she trails beside my face, savoring the taste of my cheek and then suckling my earlobe to a pleasant tickle. "I want you," my mother breathes into my ear, adjusting her lower body. "Oh, my baby boy. I want you so bad."

In a motion so smooth it surprises me when I feel it, my mother slides down on my shaft. My head parts her honeyed southern lips, my potent, youthful monolith entering her sacred, motherly warmth. We both exhale sharply, releasing our shallow, panicked breaths and emptying ourselves of all inhibitions. My mom slides down on me and I sink deeply into her yearning pool of desire.

Bliss? Euphoria? Felicity? Ecstasy? There are no words that I could use to sufficiently illustrate the depths, the overflow of utter pleasure I feel in this moment. As it turns out, when I was born, I was expelled from paradise. And now that I have returned, I know that I am home inside my mother's marvelous and divine pussy. I am bathed in loved, clothed in comfort, inundated with satisfaction, welcomed into the very heart of god herself. And there, I worship to the point of tears.

"Mmm-Mama," I nearly whimper, surrendering all control of myself to my loving mother and the pleasure we share. "I love you, mommy! Mmmm, tell me you love me. Say you love me, oh, Mom!" The words seem to pour straight from my soul, unadulterated and unfiltered by my conscious mind. It's as if I'm translated back into a little boy, unabashedly vulnerable, with no one to tell me I needed to be so proud to beg for my mother's love and affection.

"I love you so much, my baby boy," My mother whispers in my ear as she just now begins to deliberately work her hips in supremely slow arcs. I am lost in a world of blue pleasure. "You're the love of my life, Shawn. I'm so, so in love with you, my beautiful boy."