Traveling With Bryan - Ch. 5 - We Head Home From The Funeral

Bryan and I made it to Albuquerque two days before my dad passed away peacefully. We remained for the funeral and the family gatherings that followed. Those days remain a blur in my memory. Clearly, between my father's passing, the funeral and the family interactions, there were no opportunities for Bryan and me to be intimate; not that I wanted to be intimate under these circumstances. The slight respite gave me some time to search my soul about the events of the past week without a heightened state of arousal clouding my judgment. I came to the conclusion that allowing my stepson into my bed was wrong by any measure. It was a mistake of epic proportions. I can give all the excuses in the world, but it was wrong. However, I also realized that whatever harm was going to be inflicted on my stepson because of my weakness and emotional vulnerability was likely already done. Bryan had slept with his stepmother; there was no changing that fact. There was nothing I could do to undo my sin. The real question was, 'would it harm him further to continue this inappropriate relationship? Should I insist upon ending this relationship now, or could I let it continue?' Then I thought about Jim. I had never before contemplated cheating on my husband; certainly not with his son. I knew that if Jim found out what I had done, my marriage would be over. I did love Jim, but honestly, I never experienced the intimacy with my husband that I enjoyed with Bryan. Jim's job took him away for months at a time, leaving me alone and lonely. When he was home, our love making was fairly rare, once a week maximum; and was fairly routine. Occasionally, I would climax with Jim, but more often than not, I was left to masturbate quietly after he came inside me, and fell asleep. So how much harm would it cause Bryan if we continued our intimate relationship secretly, in the privacy of our home back in Chicago? I honestly did not know the answer. I did know that I have never felt more fulfilled, content or loved that I felt when I lay in Bryan's arms, with his penis deep inside me following a mutual orgasm that we shared. Lying coupled together in post-coital bliss was pleasurable beyond words. I did not want to give up that feeling. I was not sure that I could give up the intimacy that my stepson and I had shared, even if I wanted to. The pleasure was too great, too fulfilling. I also realized that regardless what I decided about continuing the physical aspect of my relationship with my stepson, neither Bryan nor I could be fully trusted to behave. The attraction was too strong, too intoxicating, too addictive. So I religiously took my oral contraceptive pill every day. I needed to be certain that I did not conceive my stepson's child. That was something almanbahis şikayet I was not prepared to do. But I did know that I should not be the aggressor. I should not initiate these encounters. If Bryan could resist the urge to try to fuck me, I knew I should not try to tempt him. Of this I was sure. Three days following the funeral, we packed the car, said our goodbyes, and started the long drive home. We left early, heading out of Albuquerque, heading east on I-40. Bryan slept most of the morning. We stopped for lunch and Bryan took his turn behind the wheel. I took a nap while Bryan drove. I awoke mid afternoon. I looked over at my stepson and I wondered, 'What was Bryan's state of mind? What did he want or expect when we arrived home in Chicago?' I would soon find out. Bryan broached the subject of our relationship. "Brenda, can we talk?" "Sure honey. What's on your mind?" I asked somewhat nervously. "What's going to happen when we get home? I mean, between us?" "What do you mean, baby?" I asked trying to understand exactly what he was asking. "Brenda, do we belong to each other?" "Oh god, of course we do. You are my stepson. I love you in a way I will never love anyone else." "No, Brenda, that is not what I mean." Bryan took a moment before continuing. "Do you belong to me? Are you mine? What happens when dad comes home?" Bryan's question caught me off guard; no, it shocked me. I had not even contemplated that he would be jealous of his father and me being intimate. As a defense mechanism, I laughed and said, "Oh Bryan, you are absolutely adorable. I just love you." It was an insensitive and condescending thing to say. Bryan's face flushed a bright crimson from embarrassment. His expression changed and he looked genuinely hurt. I struggled to find the right words to undo the hurt I had caused my stepson. "Honey, some things happened on the trip down here that should not have happened. I think we were thrust into an unusual situation at a time when we were both very vulnerable; at least I was. My father was dying and your Dad was thousands of miles away. I needed to be close to someone who loved me. I turned to you. I shouldn't have. But I did. I am sorry for that," I said before pausing. "So you did not enjoy it? Are you saying you don't want to be with me that way again?" Bryan responded, his voice quaking slightly as he struggled with his emotions. He was feeling an enormous sense of rejection at this moment. I wanted to hold him, hug him, comfort him, but he was driving and I could do none of those things. I considered for a moment that if we were not traveling at 75 mile per hour on Interstate 40 at the moment, I would comfort him, which would lead to me taking him into almanbahis canlı casino my arms, which would lead to taking him inside me again. I decided it was good that I could not touch him at this moment. I did reach over and squeeze his thigh to reassure him of my deep affection for him. I decided to be honest, at least mostly honest. "Bryan, what happened between us should not have happened. I was wrong to allow it to happen. But since you asked, I enjoyed it tremendously; both physically and emotionally. I will be guilt ridden for the rest of my life, but it was also the most beautiful experience I have ever had. I have never felt so loved, so satisfied or so content as I did lying in your arms, with your penis still inside me, after you gave me the most powerful and enjoyable orgasm I have ever experienced. Baby, I am an evil, wicked, sinful woman for saying this, but yes, I enjoyed making love to you." He smiled broadly. "Are you going to allow me to do that to you again? Can we be together again?" "Honey, I don't think we should. I want to share that with you, but I am afraid that I am harming you." "Brenda, you are not. I promise you, you are not hurting me. I need you. I need to be with you and to touch you. I don't think I can stand being in the house with you and not having you," Bryan said with a love and passion that I knew was genuine and sincere. I noticed Bryan's crotch was starting to bulge a bit. This conversation was arousing him. "Baby, I have the same desire, and the same needs. I don't know if I could ever say no to you, ever," I said before pausing. "But if we continue, we have to establish some guidelines. I have to know that I am not interfering with your normal social interaction with girls your own age." Bryan's face lit up like a Christmas tree when I indicated that there was a scenario that would allow us to continue our intimacies. "Bryan, you have to date girls your own age. If I feel like I am interfering with you dating girls, I will stop this. I will have to stop this. I love you too much not to stop this." Bryan nodded, and then offered, "But Brenda, I promise I won't do these things with them. I will save that for you. I don't want to do these things with anyone except you." "Bryan, that is precisely what I am talking about. You have to interact with girls your own age as if we were not intimate. If you can't do that, I am hurting you; and I would be forced to stop." Bryan nodded as he answered, "So you want me to fuck other girls?" I decided that I would not address my stepson's use of the word 'fuck' in front of me, especially since recently I had said something to the effect of 'fuck me harder' while he was pounding my pussy with his erection several almanbahis casino days ago. I felt that I lost the moral high ground to criticize him for cursing the moment I let him enter me. No, his choice of words would not be the issue today. "Bryan, I do not want you to have sex with anybody because of me; but I certainly do not want you to abstain from sex because of me either." "But Brenda, you have told me many, many times that having sex at my age can lead to pregnancy and/or disease. Wouldn't be better if I did not have sex with anyone except you?" Damn, he was good. He had a point. If taking my stepson into my bed kept him from contracting an incurable disease, or getting a girl pregnant, then maybe I was actually protecting him, not harming him? Was I simply rationalizing my bad behavior? Perhaps. But Bryan did have a point. "Bryan, I just don't want you to fail to experience the discovery of sex with a girl your own age because you are rushing home to hop into my bed." "Brenda, I will be going away to college in the fall. That is only five months away. When I am away at school, I will date, and I will probably experience sex with other girls. Until then, I want to belong to you, and only you, until I leave." I could see I was not going to dissuade my stepson from this. And honestly, I was very flattered that he wanted only me. After all, I was an older woman, not a young nubile teenager. Objectively speaking though, although at age twenty four, I still did look pretty damn good. "Okay. But I still want you to date, even if you do not have sex. And if you find someone you are really attracted to, I won't be mad or jealous if you do advance the relationship into a physical one." Then I thought about Jim. "Bryan, you also need to understand, and accept that I am a married woman. Your father and I will share a bed when he is home. You need to be comfortable with the fact that as his wife, he and I will be intimate. And you need to understand that he can never find out about us, ever." "Brenda, I understand that. I don't like it, but I can accept it. When he is home, he gets you to himself, and I don't get to be with you." "But honey, even when your dad is away on his job, we have to act like a stepmother and her stepson, not lovers. No one can ever suspect, even for a second that there is anything physical going on between us. And just because we are sharing a bed, does not change the other aspects of our relationship. You still have to obey me, and treat me with respect. Understand?" "Absolutely. In fact, now that I know you can cut me off if I don't clean my room, or do my homework, I'll be perfect." I smiled and said, "You better be. Else no treats for you. No bedtime stories." We had just driven into Oklahoma City. We were planning on turning north on towards Springfield and looking for a place to spend the night. We were a few miles from the junction with I-44, when Bryan asked another question that revealed the complexities we were imposing upon ourselves.