Life With My Son

When he was growing up, my son and I had a distant relationship. He's the fruit of an affair I had with an older man at the time (I was only 29, he was in his 40s). We tried to make it work and even got married and stayed together for a while. When we split up, we decided he was in a better condition to take care of our child. They moved abroad not long after, so I rarely saw my son. As a kid, I used to see him once a year during the holidays, if at all. I figured I wasn't cut out to be a mom anyway, so I went on with my life. I couldn't go to college, but I did well for myself as a fitness coach and model, even at my age. I dated and had lots of sex, had many romances, married and divorced once more, stayed unmarried and with no new children ever since.
Then, my son's father died when he was 15 years old. Since he had no other family and was still a minor, he had to move back with me. Surprisingly, we got along pretty well. His dad had educated him well to be a kind, independent, hard-working and self-assured young man. He was still a teenager with teenager problems and a teenager's messy life, of course, but for the most part it was like moving in with a younger roommate. I still had to take care of him, of course, but his independence mixed well with mine. He never got in my way and I never got in his. In time, it became like having a younger friend. We even went by our names, he never called me "mom". Even back then, it started to border in the inappropriate: I've always been one to use skimpy outfits that reveal my figure, obviously he noticed my body and I noticed him watching me every now and then. Hormones, I thought. But as he got older and more confident, he even commented on my good looks. Here was a kind, gentle and handsome young man flirting with an older woman. I liked that. Then I remembered that older woman was his mom and stopped that train of thought. He brought girls home, I brought men home, we talked about sex but, insted of feeling like a mom having "the talk" with her son, it felt like friends talking openly about sex. There was sensuality to it that we never named, and also an implicit jealousy.
Then he went off to college, and I started to see him less often. I missed him: we really were confidants by then, we could talk anything with each other, we were very intimate. Things started to change a few years later, when he came home during his last summer before graduating. He was turning 22 and said he wanted to celebrate with me and asked to take me for dinner. It was strange, since he usually would just party with his friends during the weekend and have lunch with me.
It was a sweet evening, and then we went home and watched a movie with some wine. His head was on my lap, I was caressing it when, all of a sudden, he got up and kissed me. I did not stop him, but was shocked and speechless when he stopped. He looked firmly into my eyes and said he knew it was inappropriate and wrong, but confessed to being deeply attracted and in love with me. He said that, after college, he wanted to come back and find a job in town so he could live with me. Then he reassured me that if I was not comfortable with this and said no, it was ok, and he had a lucrative job offer elsewhere. I wouldn't have to see him again if I didn't want to.
I kissed him again and we made love then and there. All night long.
I knew on the spot it was wrong, but in all my life of dating I had never felt such sincerity and such an attraction. Perhaps I feel so attracted to him beacause it's so wrong. But I've just given in to having such a kind, handsome, smart and hard-working man being in love with me. So much younger, too. I love his body and he's an extraordinary lover (he needed some help in that, but we got there).
We've kept going for six years, and we're a happy couple. He said he'd marry me, if he could. Fortunately, he doesn't want children, which could be complicated. I don't have any immediate family either and, even though our friends don't know the true nature of our relationship, we mostly date out in the open, but keep it tame. I do love going on vacation with him, though: he gets to hold me, kiss me and present me to other people as his lover or partner. We get to scream each other's names when we fuck and make each other cum. Such is life with my lover son. Unusual, not for everyone, but we love it.