Unfulfilled fantasy

A lot tends to happen when you grow up in a world with free will. You live for moments like this one right now: sitting here on my bed, reading the book I love while my parents are off doing whatever they do—probably having sex again, though I don't know because I'm not allowed to go into their rooms.

They've never said so, but the way they look at each other, and then at me, has made it obvious enough. It's also why I can't stop thinking about them.

Source
I think of kissing my mother when she gets home from work, or how I'd like her to feel as I slide my fingers inside her tight pussy. I picture my father taking me in his strong arms after dinner, pulling me close, tasting every inch of my skin while he fucks me with long slow strokes until we both cum.

But mostly I think about all the times we spent together as children playing games and making up stories and pretending our toys were real.

Those memories make me want to cry sometimes, not out of sadness, but just because they're so clear and so perfect. And then I remember this afternoon, the day before everything changed…

It started when Mom came home early from work to get ready for a fancy dress party she had to attend later tonight. She was wearing a short black skirt and a tight white blouse that showed off her cleavage and made me instantly hard.

Her legs looked longer than usual and her hair fell over her shoulders like an untamed lion's mane. As soon as she walked in the door she saw me sitting on the couch, looking through a book.

"Hey, little boy," she said, smiling. "What are you doing?"

"Just reading."

She sat down next to me and kissed me softly on the forehead. "That's nice. Who's your friend?" She asked pointing to a figure in my book

"He's imaginary," I told her.

She laughed. "Oh, really? He looks very real to me."

I smiled back. "Well, he is imaginary, but I still like talking to him."

Mom reached out and touched the imaginary boy's cheek. His skin felt warm and soft on her fingertips I thought as she felt the sheet of paper between her thumbs.

"Tell me about him." She said

"His name is John Paul Jones. He's a sailor who fought in the American Revolution. We pretend he's a real person so we can tell stories about him."

"Why does he have to be imaginary?"

I shrugged. "Because it makes it fun. Like we're playing a game."
Mom nodded. "You're a smart kid.

I'll bet you have a lot of friends."

I shook my head. "Only the ones I make up."

"How many do you have?"

"Three," I said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Is that all?"

"No, not at all." I closed the book and looked at her. "There's my best friend, Nicky, and then there's the girl I like, Melissa, and then…" I trailed off.

"And then?" she asked.

I didn't want to talk about her yet.

"And then there's you."

Her eyes widened. "Me?!"

"Yes, you." I smiled. "If I could have any three people in the whole world, it would be you, Nicky, and Melissa. But if I had to choose only one, it would definitely be you."

For a moment she was silent. Then she stood up and walked around behind me, so I couldn't see her face. "I am so happy that you think of me that way," she whispered.

My heart pounded in my chest. I hated when she did that. "Don't tease me, Mother."

She pulled away and smiled. "I wasn't teasing. Just saying how much I care about you."

I swallowed. "Can I ask you something?"

She leaned forward. "Of course."

"When I'm older and I decide to date girls, will you approve of them?"

She laughed. "Absolutely. Your dad and I love girls. We don't discriminate against anyone."

"So you won't mind if I date a girl?"

"In fact, I hope you do."

I grinned. "Do you mean that?"

"Oh, yes. I love seeing you happy.

That's all I ever wanted for you."

My smile faded. "I don't think I'm going to date, anyone."

"What?" Mom frowned. "What are you talking about? Of course, you will. I know you want to. You're practically bursting at the seams with hormones!"

"Not really."

She put her hand on my shoulder.

"Are you sure? I know lots of boys your age who have already gone through puberty. Some even have girlfriends."

I shook my head. "I don't want to."

She stared at me with a worried expression. "Then why not?"

I shrugged. "It's just not what I want right now. I don't know. I'm not sure."

"Oh, okay." She patted my arm.

"We'll worry about it when you're older."

I nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

Mom smiled at me. "Now, let's finish reading this chapter, shall we?"

I picked up the book and turned the page. While thinking of a day I'll be able to fully express my desire to either mom or dad. I hope they won't be too shocked to discover their quiet son is bisexual.

---

Unwind every Friday by visiting my blog for more erotica. Love, Iska 😉

You can also visit Iska' Porn Hub community for stories and discussions you might have missed.😍