<div class="floatleft">(http://i1184.photobucket.com/albums/z335/Bchan1986/Bianca%20Beauchamp/1511644_711501478884472_499030442_n_zps841f4a62.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Lara Beaumont<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Lara's Home - Lara's Bedroom<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Marco and Kellen<br/><br/>When was the last time she had had herself a decent nights sleep?  She couldn't recall.  Even as a child, she didn't have one small fraction of a memory she could think of where she simply could lay her head down upon her pillow and drift off into a peaceful slumber.  And now as a full grown adult, the only way she would get a good few hours of rest, was if she drank or got herself laid.  Both were very rare to come by nowadays; what with running her own business, being a part-time model, and raising two sons as a single mother in her mid-forties.  It wasn't easy, but Lara loved a challenge.  It had been nineteen years since she divorced her last  husband (http://i1184.photobucket.com/albums/z335/Bchan1986/tumblr_n24jehzloW1s0azrho1_500_zps2ac18c82.jpg) and thirteen since her last  boyfriend (http://i1184.photobucket.com/albums/z335/Bchan1986/20_zpsfe263d4f.jpg); whom died from a heart attack.<br/><br/>Through five pregnancies; in which the first three all died in ways she'd rather not mention, let alone think about, she managed to give birth to two, healthy, strapping young boys.  Though they were only half-siblings, they were brothers regardless and her most treasured.  Her first oldest, Marco, had been conceived shortly before marrying Philippe; a man who she met while staying in Paris.  She had been married at the time to her first husband,  William (http://i1184.photobucket.com/albums/z335/Bchan1986/tumblr_n4emdzCV9v1qmi5xlo3_500_zps8bb02919.jpg), but after falling head-over-heels in love with the french man, she ran off to the U.S. with him.  It was only until after a year of the Beaumont family not hearing anything from her that Lara finally called; only to demand a divorce after several hours of trying to be convinced to come home.  A few months after her second wedding, she gave birth to the now over six-foot tall, young man; twenty-one years of age and in his last year of College.  Though Philippe and herself had parted ways before Marco's third birthday, they managed to leave on good terms.  Every few years, she would receive a letter or a call from him and they would make small talk.  The love they both shared could still be felt; whether it was from the smile in his voice or the way her laugh could still make his heart flutter.  But sadly, despite the close bond they still had, both of them knew it could never be like before.  Each had their own life to live.<br/><br/>After half a year of still modeling and preparing to open her very first clothing store, Lara met a new photographer her company had hired and the two seemed to hit it off naturally.  Bert Atwood was his name and it was a surprise his name hadn't been more known worldwide.  His photo work and skills behind a camera were just astonishing.  Even with having just met the fiery redhead, Bert could tell there was something off with her.  She would go about her usual self; sharing stories and jokes between sets, but when their eyes locked onto one another behind the lens, he was able to see the dullness where light had once shined with such fierceness.  After a few sessions, he finally managed to gather up enough courage to ask her out on a date.  One night; after three photo sessions and having nearly all of her recent clothing designs denied, she went out for drinks and it was there that she spilled her whole life story up to that point to him.  It was a lot to swallow, but he listened and gave her his personal opinion on the matter.  She cried of course; smearing all her makeup and staining her dress with two glasses of wine, but after she managed to get everything out of her system, he drove her home and it was there that they made sweet, sweet love for the first time.  It was four months later that Lara found herself pregnant with his child.  During the months of her pregnancy, she wouldn't let anyone take her picture unless it was him.  Call it hormones or what have you, but unless Bert was in the room, she wouldn't allow herself to be photoed.  Lara would be lying to herself if she said that the french-canadian man didn't cherish all nine months; seeming to find the spark that attracted himself to her when they first met, despite now sporting a huge belly and unpredictable mood swings.  The following year, Kellen was born.  By then, she had pulled enough strings to make him her head photographer.<br/><br/>Now in her Thirties, Ms. Beaumont was a full-time mother and girlfriend; juggling both her jobs and raising two children between the ages of one and three.  It was until the day that Bert was rushed to a nearby hospital because of a heart attack, that everything seemed so perfect and in place.  She finally had the children she had always wanted and a loving partner to share them with.  What more could she ask for?  And then all of her hard work came crashing down on her like glass thrown against a brick wall upon showing up in the emergency room; only to find out that her beloved had died before even reaching the hospital grounds.  She was thirty-three at the time of his death.  The cause of his demise was almost laughable.<em>Almost.</em>Too much greasy, fatty foods and being a continuous smoker.  He wasn't fat by any means, but when you didn't have to worry too much about your appearance when it was<em>you</em>who was photographing other people, you didn't have to think of all the poor choices you made when it came to eating or sticking a cigarette between your lips.<br/><br/>The years continued to roll on by; clear signs that the past was stilling lingering in her thoughts by the way she talked or the body language she gave off to those around her.  She found herself going into another long period of depression; drinking more and crying herself to sleep most nights.  She only did this at night however; when her sons were put to bed and didn't have to witness the pitiful state she would put herself in night after night.  She had put her clothing label,<strong><span class="bbc_u"><em>The Red Butterfly</em></span></strong>, on hold and only worked part-time as model; posing every now and then when she felt what little energy she had would help pull her through a session.  This went on for the next eight years; putting up a happy front for the sake of her children.<br/><br/>When Lara turned forty-one, a life-changing experience occurred that both terrified and surprised her.  It was summer vacation and both her sons were off from school.  Marco had just graduated from being a Sophomore in High School and Kellen was going to be an Eighth-Grader in Middle School.  It was a very humid night and Kellen had asked if he could sleep at a friends house down the street.  Unlike her upbringing, she found herself spoiling her children as much as she could; and what harm would a sleepover do?  She had the Mother's phone number in case something happened, so of course she agreed to let him go.  That left Marco and herself alone in the house.  Things went along normally like they always did...until she joined him on the living room couch to watch T.v.<br/><br/>The A.C. had broken down in the living room, so until someone came to fix, all they could do was place a few fans about the room; leaving it still quite warm.  Marco seemed glued to some late night program playing, so she figured she'd amuse herself with some entertainment.  She didn't really like sitting in one spot for too long, but tonight she was feeling rather relaxed.  More than normal; which was saying something.  It also didn't help that she had drank half a bottle of campaign while enjoying a nice soak in the tub, so she was feeling the effects the alcohol provided.  Plopping herself down on the other end of the couch, she wore a light  gray-colored tanktop (http://i1184.photobucket.com/albums/z335/Bchan1986/b0cd32089a3b11e387c40e93ed735778_8-590x590_zps43236557.jpg); one of the straps hanging off the side of one of her shoulders.  It was obvious by the large amounts of cleavage revealed that she was not wearing a bra underneath.  A pair of black short-shorts covered her lower regions; stopping at mid-thigh to show off her long, slender, and shapely legs.  Her hair was down and slightly disarrayed as though she had shoved both her hands into her red mane and went to town on making it look as wild as possible before trying to make it look decent again.<br/><br/>At first, she played it off as trying to be interested on what was playing on the television screen in front of her, but after a few minutes, she began to shift in her seat; not seeming to find a comfortable position.  She hadn't even considered just what had to be going through her eldest son's head right now at seeing his mother in such a state.  Her clothing wasn't really all that revealing.  She was more chestier than most women her age, but tank tops and shorts were normal clothing attire; especially in the summer.  But what she did next was a bit unexpected; for both of them.  Feeling rather affectionate, she scooted closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder; still trying to keep her attention on the flashing screen ahead, but struggling to keep focused.  Her eyes began to wander about the room; from the coffee table, to the few plants placed about, to her toes wiggling on the carpet, and then finding them beginning to travel up and over.<br/><br/>It was like any normal male to react upon seeing something they found sexually attractive, but when your mother spots you with a<em>hard-on</em>poking between the front of your shorts; well....  Like someone was taking snapshots of the scene taking place, it only took a matter of seconds from Lara glancing up to look her son in the face; his dark gaze matching her own, to finding herself straddling his lap; her hands cupping either side of his face as she hungrily captured his mouth over and over again.  Between hot pants and heavy breathing, the rhythmic squeaking of the couch could be heard giving in as she grounded her hips against his stiff groin.  With skillful hands, she managed to pry his fully hard cock out; giving it a few playful strokes before grinding herself against him again. By then point, he was able to tell that she wasn't wearing any underwear under her shorts, so whatever moisture was building between her legs could also be felt against his bare skin.<br/><br/>This went on for what seemed like an eternity, the sounds of suckling and moaning echoing off the living room walls.  By the time his mother had reached her orgasm, she had Marco sucking off her breasts as if she were breastfeeding him again.  When he finally came, he wound staining the whole front of both their shorts.  While he never entered her, all those years using sex toys and touching herself were nothing compared to what had just happened.  It was<em>taboo...sinful...erotic...delightful...</em>and it happened again and again and again.  Blow jobs.  Tit fucks.  Hand jobs.  She did it all; well,<em>almost</em>all.  She had still yet to fully take him into her; to be 100% intimate, and it was because of the constant nagging in the back of her mind telling her how wrong it was that kept her from doing it.  Mental images of her parents pointing fingers at her while holding the Bible in their hands were forever burned into her mind.<br/><br/>Then came the day when Marco graduated from High School and was going to go off to College.  She had a party for him like any good parent would do for their child who received their diploma and once all the guests were gone and everything was put away, she had a little secret after-party surprise for her<em>little boy</em>that he would never forget.  With the use of protection; and not letting him have his way until he put a condom on, she finally allowed him to become one with his own mother.  When it finally happened, it scared her beyond belief.  Not only had it been a while since a real person had fornicated with her, but the risk of having them cum inside her; especially when that person was your own son, was understandingly terrifying.  The next morning before he left, she made him swear to tell no one of what went on inside their house; not even his own brother.  As far as they knew, Kellen knew nothing that was going on between them and she preferred it that way.<br/><br/>Five years had passed since then and Lara liked to believe that their mother-son flings were still only their private matters.  However, with Marco away at College, Ms. Beaumont had to keep herself busy.  She continued to model part-time, but finally managed to reopen her clothing store and begin some new designs.  Things were beginning to go in the right direction again it seemed.  Whenever work seemed too much for her and smoking and drinking didn't seem to do the trick, you would bet that Lara was waiting in anticipation for when Marco would come home on the holidays and find the nearest room that had a door and lock attached to it so that she could get her much-needed fix.<br/><br/>However, there was another little secret that the Beaumont mother was keeping hush-hush inside her household.  Within the recent last year, she had been seeing less and less of her oldest son and finding herself resorting back to her adult toys.  However, a sudden disappearance of her underwear; namely her more expensive and exotic-type, started to take place.  At first, she thought she might have misplaced them while doing laundry, but upon witnessing her younger son, Kellen, masturbating with a pair of her panties wrapped around his dick, she put one and one together.  She didn't know how long this had been happening, but judging by the way he was furiously jerking himself off, she figured it was probably around the time he had hit puberty.  Kellen himself, was in his last year of High School and while good children did their home work, did their chores, and found a part-time job to get ready for College, her baby boy was treating her like a Queen.<br/><br/>Some nights when she would come home from work, he would almost force her to sit down and relax while he made her dinner; pouring her a glass of whatever bottle she had brought up from the cellar.  Lately, he had been quite the cook; fixing healthy, yet appetizing meals to keep them both energized and fit.  Since he learned of how his father died, Kellen had decided he wanted to be the total opposite.  He worked out.  Ok, maybe<em>working out </em>wasn't the right word.  He was a<span class="bbc_u"><em>fitness machine</em></span>.  A nonstop, ball of unknown agility.  Sometimes he did it a little too much, and she found herself playing the role of the overprotective mother and demanding he stop before he hurt himself.  At other times, she was grateful for all the bottled-up stamina he seemed to pull from out of thin air when she began to relieve his '<em>stress</em>'.  That's right.  After silently observing what he did with her undergarments when he thought no one was looking, she took it upon herself to step in and take responsibility for what she appeared to be doing to him.  Like his brother, the first time it happened, he was scared and confused.  She couldn't blame him. It wasn't everyday you had your mother waltz right into your room while you're just about to blow your load and finishes yourself off for you.<br/><br/>And she did just that.  Whenever either one of them had a crappy day, she would make him cum at least once to help him relax.  This of course, would turn her on, but she wouldn't allow him to touch her.  Not yet.  Unlike Marco, Kellen was still immature in many ways.  They'd kiss a little and she'd let him fondle her breasts, but anything beyond that was a big no-no.  Until last night.  She had been patient with him and took things slowly, but he finally managed to ask her to use her mouth on his cock.  She happily obliged and in no time, found herself head-bobbing in a nice, well-paced, rhythm; massaging his balls with one hand, while the other stroked his saliva-coated length.  Due to her handful of partners, she had become quite skilled at giving blowjobs and accidentally caused him to orgasm within minutes the first time.  She assured him that it was normal for boys his age to cum so quickly and proceeded in getting him off a second time; though slower.<br/><br/>It was the next morning and after pressing the snooze button on the alarm clock set by her bed, Lara simply continued to just lay there.  She let her eyes adjust to the sun just peeking up over the rooftops of the houses lined up outside her bedroom window; filling her bedroom with its golden glow.  It was still fairly early, so not many people would be awake at this time.  The morning joggers and pet-walkers, but that was pretty much it.  No doubt Kellen would be up and about at this hour.  Speaking of which....<br/><br/>The sound of distant voices could be heard down the hallway and Lara found herself taking a moment to realize just who it was before sitting up in her bed.  Pulling the layers of blankets off, she slipped her feet into a pair or white fuzzy slippers and rose up off the bed.  Scuffling about her room, she grabbed and slipped on a matching white bathrobe; tying it shut tightly about her waist.  She wore nothing but a pair of black lacy panties underneath; feeling more comfortable sleeping in the nude, depending on her mood.  Gathering all of her hair over one shoulder, she quickly pulled it back into a loose ponytail and proceeded to open her bedroom door.  Stepping out into the hallway, she entered through the living room and then the kitchen; stopping just outside the entrance to see both her sons, Marco and Kellen, looking back at her.<br/><br/>With a sleepy smile, she gave a small wave and slowly made her way into the kitchen.  Passing by both her sons, she reached up with both hands and made them lean over so she could give them both a kiss on the cheek.  "Good morning." she spoke softly; the sleep yet to leave her system.  Marco seemed to be in the midst of making breakfast, while Kellen had returned from just finishing another work out; shirtless and sweating.  The events from last night flashed through her mind, but instead of making a big scene of it and having everyone feel awkward, she decided to seat herself down at the counter.<br/><br/>"Kellen, could you be a dear and make your mother some coffee, please?  Two creams and three sugars.  And Marco, sweetheart, what are you making?"