I’d said it. We were past the point of no return, so I told Jennifer
everything. I told her that about a year ago Matt had broken his leg, and
since he couldn’t bathe properly with the cast, I had started giving him
sponge baths. He was embarrassed of course. No eighteen-year-old boy
wants to be naked in front of his mother. Of course I washed his back and
hair, but let him wash his private parts himself.

Then one day, while I washed his hair, I noticed that he had an
erection. I don’t know if he’d had them the other days; I had avoided
looking down there out of concern for his privacy. He had a very nice
cock, just like his father, only a bit smaller. It stood out proudly from
the thick tuft of hair above it. I asked him, “Would you like me to take
care of that for you?” I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t even think
about it before the words escaped my mouth.

Matt spluttered and said he didn’t know what I was talking about.

“It’s natural that you got excited,” I continued. “Getting your hair
washed by a woman is kind of sexy, even if it’s just your mom. Would you
like me to relieve you, or will you do it yourself later?

“Uh, I guess it’d be okay if you did it.”

With that I reached out and gave him a handjob. I think it only took
about four strokes for him to come.

I finished cleaning him up, and it became part of our daily routine.
I’d give him his sponge bath, cleaning his cock and balls myself now–I
mean there was no more need to feign privacy after I’d jerked him off–and
then I would finish him off by hand. I started making the washing into a
game, trying to see how excited I could get him. I took to undressing
before his sponge bath, wearing only a bathrobe on the pretense that I
didn’t want to get my clothes wet. I’d do things like rub my breasts
against his back as I washed him, or breathe heavily on the back of his
neck and ears.

Then one day, shortly before the cast was to come off, instead of giving
him a handjob, I took him into my mouth. He’d never had a blowjob before
and, although he was getting better at lasting longer with all the handjob
practice, he came pretty quickly. His cum was sweet tasting.

Then the cast came off. I thought it was over and that I’d have a
little talk with him about how what we’d been doing was fun, but it was
something that shouldn’t continue. But that night Matt came into my
bedroom.

“Mom, I know I don’t really need help bathing anymore, but would you
mind helping me again tonight?”

I couldn’t refuse him, or my own desires. I told him to go into my
shower and I’d be there in a minute. Thankful that James was away on a
sales trip, I undressed and I heard Matt start to run the shower, then,
naked, I went into the bathroom to join him.

I let him soap me up and rinse me off. It was the first time he’d
touched a naked female body. He was rock hard throughout. He spent an
inordinate amount of time fondling my breasts, then, because I didn’t think
he would do it by himself, I grabbed his right hand and guided it down to
my pussy and let my son grope me. After a few moments, I told James we
should go into the bedroom. So I turned off the shower and we dried off.
Then I took his hand and led him to my bed.

We lay down and I started kissing him. This was something that he had
some experience with, and he wasn’t a bad kisser. He was very tentative
with his hands, unsure if he could touch me. So I told him to touch me all
he wanted, and to show the way I reached out and grabbed that lovely cock
of his. We just rolled around and played with each other that night. I
let him explore my body, and I explained to him the various parts of my
pussy and what I liked to have done to them. I finished him off with a
blowjob and sent him to his own bed.

The next night I introduced my son to the art of giving a woman head.
He was more enthusiastic than skilled, but he steadily improved as I guided
him in what I liked.

The next day James came home, and that put a stop to Matt’s and my
playtime for two whole weeks. It drove Matt crazy, and I was unsure if
what we were doing was right. First, as you can tell I’m really open about
sex. A lot of what I was doing with Matt was a kind of sex education. I
was guiding him in exploration of the female body and demystifying sex. It
would make him a more considerate and responsible lover. But I wasn’t sure
that I should let it go any further than handjobs and head.

The other problem was my relationship with James. We have an open
marriage, but that’s based on honesty. James knows about every person I
sleep with. In fact, he’s there most of the time. I really don’t pick up
guys or girls on my own. There are few long-time partners and couples that
I fuck without James being present, but for the most part when he’s on the
road, I stick to masturbation. This was different. First, I wasn’t
telling him about it. And second, it was our son. Not only did he have a
right to know as my husband, he had a right as a parent. But I kept my
mouth shut. Oh, and James and I had the most fantastic sex when he came
home. All that playing with Matt got me really hyped up.

Then James was off on another sales trip, and that night Matt showed up
for bath time again. We did our usual rolling around. Matt came twice. I
got awfully wet, but Matt still hadn’t gotten the knack of making me come.
Don’t get me wrong, Matt got me very hot, but he wasn’t skilled enough to
bring me off. But he was a quick study and it wouldn’t be long before he
would be nearly as good as his father. As usual, when we were done I sent
my son off to bed. While I dearly would have loved to curl up and sleep
with him, I was already starting to formulate boundaries. I wanted to keep
our playtime limited to the physical. I wanted our emotional bond to be a
normal mother-son one, and I was afraid that certain types of intimacy
would encourage the wrong types of feelings.

Since I don’t like sleeping on a wet spot, I changed the sheets and was
settling down to bed when there was a knock at my door. It opened and I
heard Rachel’s voice.

“Mom, can I come in.”

“Yes, of course dear. What do you want?”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

I looked at my daughter, standing there in her nightgown. Despite being
twins, my two kids really look nothing alike. Matt takes after his father
in every respect, tall and lean, but Rachel was the odd one out in the
family. She resembled no one else; I suppose she inherited every recessive
gene in James and my arsenals. She had my nose and chin, but she had big,
doe-eyes that no one else in the family had. And even at eighteen she was
curvier and had bigger hips than I did. Her coloring was dark, also unlike
either James or me. She was cute and cuddly and even though she was too
old to be sleeping in her parents’ bed, I couldn’t refuse her.

“Is there anything wrong?”

“No. I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Okay, hop in.” I was glad I had changed the sheets.

I thought we had settled down to sleep when Rachel spoke, “I know what
you and Matt have been doing.”

A chill ran down my back, and I started to sweat. “What do you mean,
honey?”

“I’ve been watching you and Matt. It’s okay, I’m not going to say
anything to Dad or anyone.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, but knew I was not in clear yet. Rachel
was young and innocent, but she was smart and methodical. She rarely acted
on the spur of the moment, and the moment she said that she wasn’t going to
tell, I knew that she had planned this encounter out. She was the exact
opposite of her twin brother, who was all impulse and was terminally
oblivious to the consequences of his actions.

“Okay, Rachel. I know you too well. What do you want?”

“I don’t know how to masturbate. Can you show me like you’ve been
showing Matt?”

“Oh, honey, of course.” This was something I was happy to do for her.
Had she asked a few months ago, I would have limited my instruction to just
telling her how, but I’d already broken that barrier with Matt, so a little
hands-on instruction couldn’t hurt. “Have you tried?”

“Sort of, but I’m afraid of hurting myself.”

I turned on the light and climbed out of bed. “Okay, take off your
nightgown. Get naked,” I told her as I shed my own nightgown. Rachel
stared wide-eyed at my body and then got of bed and tentatively took off
her nightgown. I had never appreciated it before, but Rachel was rather
stunning. I’m tall and rather lanky, but Rachel is short and all about
curves. Her breasts were big for her age, and quite a round and impressive
rack that she had not inherited from me–mine are surgically enhanced;
James likes big boobs, so they were a Christmas present for him one year.
She had an hourglass figure, with wide hips and nice, round butt.

I sat back down on the bed, with my back to the headboard, and spread my
legs. I told her to lie down between my legs and began to show her my
pussy. It was easier than having her try to see her own in a mirror. I
explained the various parts and told her that hers would look somewhat
different, but all the parts would be there. I explained where I liked to
be touched and how, telling her that what she liked would probably be a
little different, but that she should start doing the things that I liked
and experiment from there. Rachel, ever the student, peppered me with
questions. Like should she insert something? I told her not at first,
just to rub herself until she got used to bringing herself to orgasm. And
when she was ready, I’d get her a dildo, but she should make sure that she
was properly wet before inserting anything, even her fingers. I also told
her that the first time she did, she would probably bleed, and that was
okay; it wasn’t anything to worry about. Penetration probably wouldn’t be
pleasant the first time or two, but she would grow to really enjoy it if
she kept at it, although she, like most women, would probably need external
clitoral stimulation to cum. But I told her that sex is fun even if it
doesn’t lead to orgasm, as my recent playtimes with Matt had reminded me.

“Mom, can I touch you?”

“Of course, dear. See what it’s like; then compare it to yours. And
then we’ll both masturbate together. Is that okay?”

Rachel nodded and tentatively reached out and parted the folds of my
outer lips. “Does it feel good to have it licked?”

“Oh yes. That’s so much better than your fingers.”

Rachel, who never acted on impulse, did. Either that or she was playing
a really deep game; I’ve never been sure which. She just pushed her face
forward and began licking my labia. I was stunned, but just let her
continue. When I was showing her my pussy I had told her that it was
usually best to avoid the clit at first, working your way up to it, but now
I told her that I was already pretty far advanced from my earlier bout with
Matt, and that she should just go for it. She took my clit in her mouth
and began sucking. She was a either a natural or she knew more about
getting woman off than she had let on.

“Rachel, do you really need instruction in masturbation or do you
already know how and this was just a ploy to lick my pussy?”

“Sorry,” she said looking up from my crotch and smiling, her lips and
chin glistening. “I got carried away. I really do want to learn.”

“Okay, why don’t we both masturbate together, as planned? And then we
can advance to giving head. Does that sound good to you?”

“Oh, yes.”

“All right. I’ll do the things I like to myself. You watch and try
them out on yourself.”

“Okay, Mom.”

I reached down and gently parted my labia with a finger. I was already
wet. I watched as Rachel did the same. Then I closed my eyes and went
into the routine that normally worked best for me. I rubbed and gently
tugged at my pussy lips, and then started making circular motions on my
clit. Every now and then I’d alternate rubbing side by side or up and down
to give it some variety. As I felt my orgasm build, I went faster and
faster until I couldn’t go any more. That’s when I exploded in an orgasm
that had been working its way up since my shower with Matt earlier that
evening.

When I opened my eyes I saw that Rachel was still working furiously at
herself. She had buried her mouth in my thigh to keep from screaming, and
then she started to convulse as her first-ever orgasm rocked her.

I scooped her up into my arms and started kissing her deeply. We held
each other until I noticed she was drifting off to sleep, so I sent her off
to her own bed.

James returned the next day–this was a short trip–and I decided to
tell him. It was the incident with Rachel that provided the opening. I
told him that Rachel had some questions about sex, her body, and
masturbation, and that instead of simply giving her “the talk,” I had
demonstrated for her. I asked James if he thought that was okay, or if I
had gone too far. James thought that it was probably okay and made a crack
about wishing he’d been there to watch. I then asked whether we should do
the same for Matt, and whether he might be able to demystify the penis for
Rachel. He was cautious, unsure, but that might also be okay if we did it
right, but he was concerned whether the kids, especially Matt, were
emotionally mature enough to handle it right.

Then I dropped the bomb and told him what Matt and I had been doing. He
said he wasn’t sure, and would have to think about it. I hate James for
that. When he gets upset he just shuts down and I can’t read his emotions.
We let the conversation drop. And I was in torment wondering what was
going on in his head.

A few hours later James sat down with me and said he had talked with
Matt. He said he was pissed off that I hadn’t been honest, but that he’d
get over that, and that he had been concerned that Matt would be taking our
playtime the wrong way, but that the talk convinced him that Matt wasn’t
scarred from it and that, with the proper rules around what we did, it
could be a healthy introduction to sex for the kids.

So we all sat down as a family and talked it out. We told them about
our open marriage; Matt’s eyes opened wide. He had no idea that his
parents were kinky. The corners of Rachel’s mouth curved up in slight
smile when we told them; I suspect that she had already figured out our
alternative lifestyle. And we said they were old enough to enter into the
swinging lifestyle. (More shock and delight from Matt at this news.) The
same rules that applied to swinging applied to our playtime. They could
say “no” at any time and we would still love them and we wouldn’t be
offended. They were free to say no to a specific act, or to opt out of our
playtimes altogether. That was fine with us. In fact, they shouldn’t do
anything they weren’t comfortable with. Sex between us would be purely
recreational and educational, and it wouldn’t change our love for them as
their parents.

We told them that they could play with each other, if both wanted to,
but that neither should ever pressure the other and to always take “no” for
an answer. Matt and Rachel exchanged glances and raised eyebrows at this;
I don’t think the possibility that they might have sex with each other had
even entered their minds. We were a bit worried about Matt pressuring
Rachel into doing things she didn’t want to; but we needed have been. As
we discovered, Rachel was fierce about not letting anything happen that she
didn’t want to. Matt, on the other hand, might act impulsively and be
horny as all hell, but he was easily daunted by his sister. Besides, he is
a basically sweet boy and wouldn’t intentionally push it too far.

We also said that they should date others of the same age. Family
playtime was a supplement to dating, not a replacement. Hopefully, they
could be more responsible in choosing when and with whom to have sex. With
all that said, we set our first Giamatti family playtime for that evening.