Steven came home from school one friday afternoon, and began to surf the internet. Soon his mother, Natalya, came home from work. Natalya was considered very attractive by most men at five foot eight, slim waist, largeish yet shapely thighs and butt, and ample breasts, she was the type of blonde to bring Marylyn Monroe to mind. She had eyes of the bluest blue, and at forty-four years of age, just enough slight wrinkles about her face to let you know she was mature, in a sexy, not old, sort of way. Her lips were full and luscious, and Steven had always fantasized about her, constantly holding a mental image of her voluptuous rear end clad in those tight black polyester slacks she wore every day, and the way in which the two globes of her buttocks ended in a pear shape; and the way the middle seam of the seat of her slacks wedged up into the wide crack of her ass, and the tightness of the thigh caused a pronounced crease at the bottom of each buttock when she stood with her high-heeled feet spread apart which was her habit of mannerism.

Steven had always gotten turned on from watching women become ill and vomit, and his mother was no exception. Once, he felt so bold that he'd actually made a request of his mother that the next time she felt like vomiting, that she should let him know so that he could watch. Natalya saw no harm in this, after all, she'd have all her clothes on, right? They show people puke on t.v., right? Right. No harm in this.

From the time Steven was twelve to the present at age eighteen, he'd been treated to a total of five spew shows from Natalya kneeling before the porcelain goddess due to stomach virus, headache, bad food, ect. He loved the deep, gutteral retching and burping noises his mother would make, and seeing her situated in a most unusual position kneeling facing the toilet had a certain naughty, erotic appeal. The resulting spatter all over the toilet also has a naughty quality to it, as did the sight of Natalya wiping the surfaces with a soapy sponge when she was through puking. The combination of pinesol and his mother's stomach bile was an aroma he cherished, and was indeed a rare treat.

This day when Natalya got in from work, she didn't start supper right away, and this was most unusual. Instead, she'd stopped by the supermarket on the way home to pick up a frozen meal for Steven, as she was tired and didn't feel like cooking. She'd got one turkey and one salisbury steak, so that he'd have a choice.

"Steve, take your pick, I don't feel much like cooking tonight. I'm alright, just tired I think. I'm just going to have a bowl of soup for supper". When Steven's frozen meal came out of the microwave, the aroma had an effect of making Natalya decide she didn't really want her soup right now...... maybe later........ yes........... she'd feel like eating something after a while........ maybe........... "I feel fine" she insisted. "Just........... tired".

An hour later Natalya started to walk out the back door; she held a 7Up in her hand. "Where are you going, Mom?".

"Just outside to get a little fresh air" replied Natalya.

Unusual, thought Steven. She never misses the 6 oclock news on television.

"Want to come outside and sit with me, honey? Get some fresh air?".

"Okay, I just want to check out the Middle East situation and I'll come join 'ya".

Natalya came back in the kitchen briefly to get a jar of pickles from the refrigerator, and a few napkins, then went back outside. Steven joined his mother on a picnic bench after the news, and sat beside her. She looked a bit flushed, and there was what looked like a small puddle on the dirt near her feet. "Hi honey. Beautiful sunset, huh?"

She leaned over and spat a sizeable glob of saliva into the middle of the existing puddle. "Want a pickle, honey?".

"No thanks Mom; why are you eating pickles?" asked Steven.

"Just drinking the sour juice; it settles my stomach. I've been feeling a little queasy since lunch. Probably something I ate". Natalya, after finishing that sentence, leaned over and once again spat a huge gob of spit onto the puddle, increasing its size. She continued to do this many times, at roughly thirty-second intervals. This went on for nearly an hour.

"Are you gonna hurl, Mom?" asked Steven.

"Oh gosh honey, I hope not!" replied Natalya behind a forced chuckle and a smile that was a cross between a grimace and a grin, "but I thought I was going to a while ago". Once again she leaned over and spat. The size of the puddle has grown to nearly the size of a small dinner plate by now.

Minutes later, her nausea worsened. She broke out in a cold sweat and her hands began to tremble. She felt weak all over. Her mouth pumped out profuse amounts of salty saliva and her stomach began to involuntarily pulsate in and out. She felt like she needed to burp and hiccup at the same time, but she dared not to. She tried to take a sip of soda but it was ineffective. "I think I'm going to be sick honey" she managed. She moved to the other bench away from Steven. She held a hand tightly over her mouth as her stomach continued to retch wildly. She leaned forward with her feet wide apart and stared at the ground in front of her. Nothing. "Whew, that was close. I thought I'd nearly lost it there!" she said with another forced giggle. "I think I'm going to be okay. Let's go inside now before the mosquitoes start attacking" she said with finality.

They sat on the sofa uneventfully until nine thirty when Natalya announced that she was going to turn in. Steven went to bed at eleven but was awakened by his mother at a quarter til one in the morning. Natalya shook him gently on the shoulder and when he became coherent she informed him "I feel like I'm going to puke. Want to come watch?".

She walked quickly to the bathroom dressed in nothing but a black bra and black panty, practically nude with both ass cheeks prominently filling out the satin material. Her lean washboard stomach spasmed uncontrollably, causing her breasts to jiggle behind her bra. She dropped to her knees before the toilet, gripping the rim tightly. Steven held her hair away from her face and knelt beside her, looking her directly in the face, his heart beating rapidly in anticipation.

Natalya said "Move; it's going to splash on you. It's going to stink!".

Steven asserted "That's okay Mom. It'll wash off. Really". "Okay" replied Natalya weakly, and began to retch again with loud Urrr Urrrrrr Urrrrr noises. But subconsciously she was concerned with not getting any smelly puke on her son and this prevented her from allowing her stomach to eject the vomit.

"Move!" she said again. He did. What seemed like quarts of hot, bitter tasting, orange colored puke blasted out of her mouth, spraying into the water and rebounding off the edge of the toilet. She did it over and over until the dry heaves set in. Steven had a raging hard on from seeing, hearing, and smelling all of this, which Natalya was quick to notice despite her weakened state.

"Would you get behind me and sort of hold my stomach tightly?" she said between belches and retches, with stringy spit dangling from her mouth and chin. She changed position so that she was squatting, but with one knee on the floor and the opposite foot extended. "Just keep a firm steady pressure as tight as you can with your hand on the middle of my stomach, a little higher, yes, right there honey; could you hand me a piece of tissue?".

Her stomach felt hot, and sweaty, as her whole body was drenched in the sweat of nausea. In this position there was no way for Steven to prevent his erect penis from contacting his mother. He "let" his penis jump out of the his briefs, and the satin fabric of his mother's panties felt oh-so-smooth against his cock. He maneuvered his stiff rod in an inconspicuous fashion toward the edge of his mother's panties and before he'd realized what he'd accomplished, his cock was between the spreaded cheeks of Natalya's ass. It felt hot, moist, and sweaty between them, and most of all, welcome and inviting. The combination of heat, perspiration moisture, and the texture of ass hair along with the sight of the mess all over the toilet, the cheesey smell of the bile, the perfume mixed with body odor, and the deep primal yurrrping noises and the feel of a mature, female body was almost too much pleasure all at once for him. Natalya continued to heave and retch, the vomit now coming not in large gushes but by the small watery mouthful. Steven thrust his pelvis forward and the next thing he knew he was inside his mother's vagina.

(to be continued)