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I also assume when I say \"that night,\" you know exactly which fateful evening I'm referring to. The night where my life changed forever. The night where I became more than just a son. \n\nAnd if you're new here, you may want to go back to my first entry in order to get some additional, if not necessary, context before we get back into it. \n\nWhether or not you're familiar with what happened, here are the cliff notes so that we're all on the same page: \n\nAbout a month ago, my own mother fucked me. Not some cougar or a step-mom situation, my real, biological mother. After she discovered some naked photos of her that I stole off her phone and used as fap material for an extended period of time, she snuck into my room late at night, had a revealing conversation with me, then stripped down... and rode me. I came (obviously), she didn't (also obviously), and after only a few short, delirious minutes of something I'd spent months fantasizing about, I was alone in my room, my virginity was taken, and my relationship with my mom was completely and irreparably altered. \n\nThis might be a lot to process for those of you who are new, and trust me... I get it. It was a hell of a lot for me to process too. \n\nAs good as it felt in the moment, and even though she tried to be comforting right after it happened, things were pretty complicated after. Well, for a little while at least. \n\nFirst of all, our timing couldn't have been worse since Dad had just come home for the weekend. \n\nHis voice made me jump and made my ears ring, \"Hello, hello!\" He called out the same way he always had when he entered the house, briefcase in hand and still dressed up as if he was arriving at the courthouse. I seldom saw him in casual attire at that point. So little, that he barely felt like my father sometimes and more like some soulless salesman. As much as I didn't want to admit (and still don't), he started feeling more and more like a stranger to me, especially when he wasn't home. It'd definitely put a strain on our relationship, one that was strong enough where it allowed me to push through the guilt and do what I ended up doing the night prior. \n\nBut at the end of the day, he was still my father. And I loved him. So trying to pretend that I hadn't just committed one of the most egregious acts of adultery with his wife was going to be rather difficult. \n\n\"Hey, Dad,\" I said casually from the kitchen. \n\nHe put his briefcase down by the shoe rack and walked over, \"Hey buddy, up a little early for a Saturday, aren't you?\" \n\nI finished taking a sip of water, \"Yeah a bit, I guess. Couldn't really sleep.\" \n\n\"Up all night partying?\" \n\nThat was one way to put it. \n\nHis question immediately triggered images that almost short-circuited me. Mom posing naked for me, her breasts in my face, looking down and seeing her vagina slide up and down on my cock. I could hear her moans and feel her warm grip. Even though parts of the experience were fuzzy, there were certain elements I would never forget. \n\n\"Haha, not really, just didn't sleep well,\" was the reply I decided to go with. \n\n\"Ah, okay. Well, maybe you could grab a nap later,\" he suggested before walking over and pulling me in for a hug. \n\nJust as I wrapped my arms around him, I could hear his snout working. He was sniffing with purpose, like one of the border officer canines sniffing for illegal drugs. \n\n\"You smell... different...\" his voice was filled with suspicion. \n\nMy heart began to race, and I could feel my face getting hot. It was at that precise moment when I realized just how close I was to being caught. If I hadn't taken a shower only fifteen minutes earlier, Dad would've smelled Mom all over me. Her fur, her saliva, her other fluids... everything. We would've been finished, literally only a few hours after we'd started. I hadn't even considered that. \n\n\"You smell like your mother...\" he said, sounding almost like a gradeschooler trying to get on his friend's nerves. \n\nMy conscience almost made me spill the truth and reply something along the lines of, \"Yeah, because we were fucking this morning.\" Thankfully, I was still in the driver's seat and was able to avoid that world-ending disaster. \n\n\"Oh yeah... well, uh, Mom let me try on a few of her old hoodies. She might donate them, but I thought I'd see if they fit.\" \n\nI surprised myself with that one. It came out of the blue, it made enough sense, and it seemed to get Dad off the scent (literally). Before he could ask more questions or poke any holes in my alibi, Mom popped down the stairs. \n\n\"Hi, hun! Welcome home,\" she greeted. \n\nShe caught me off guard, as I didn't hear her coming downstairs. This was the first time I'd seen her since we had sex a few hours before, and simply being in her presence again was extremely unsettling. \n\n\"So good to see you, Heather,\" Dad replied. \n\nHis use of her name rather than a nickname came across as impersonal and oddly cold. Despite trying to keep myself in check by preserving the remainder of my sleep-deprived brain's power for keeping this massive secret, I couldn't help but wonder if Dad's strange greeting wasn't a sign of trouble with their relationship. I mean, I obviously knew Mom was lonely, or else we wouldn't have done what we did. However, at that point, I didn't have any reason to think there were other problems between my mother and father. As far as I knew, Mom and I had cast the first stone. \n\n\"How was the drive?\" she asked after going up to him and giving him a less-than-passionate hug. \n\n\"Oh, you know, long as always,\" he chuckled. \n\nTheir exchange felt no more intimate than acquaintances in a workplace, but I couldn’t tell if I was the only one who saw it that way. Because as strange as I found their interaction, what threw me off even more was Mom's ability to act like everything was completely normal. \n\n\"Should I throw a pot of coffee on? Maybe some eggs?\" she asked. \n\nHe placed his briefcase on the floor and slid off his shoes. \"Sounds good to me,\" he answered. \n\nThen... she looked directly at me. Her gaze alone made my heart beat faster and my spine tingle. I thought that after last night we'd both be walking on eggshells, struggling to keep this new perversion a secret. But she was cool as a cucumber, and I seemed to be the only one at risk of spilling the beans. \n\n\"Bradley, would you like some breakfast too?\" \n\nEven her voice hit my ears differently now. Her moans of pleasure were still fresh in my mind, and every word out of her mouth reminded me of them. At that point, I saw my mother almost as a completely different person; just about every aspect of her. \n\nDespite my distracted mind, I managed to force out a half-hearted, unconfident \"sure.\" Dad walked past me to go sit down in the kitchen. Mom gave me a warm smile, which only reminded me of the one she gave me the night before when she was naked in my room. \n\nShe put her hand on my shoulder, \"Are you okay?\" \n\nHer touch nearly made me jump, giving me vivid flashbacks of her hand stroking my cock and her arms wrapped around me as she straddled me. Obviously this whole thing was still brand new, but I don't think there's ever been a time in my life where I felt that conflicted or that confused. \n\n\"I... I think so,\" I said with little to no confidence. \n\nMom lowered her head to mine and pecked me on the cheek, \"You sure, sweetheart? Want to talk later?\" \n\nI nodded before she went and got started on breakfast. It wasn't too long afterwards that Benny came barreling down the stairs screaming excitedly for Dad's return. With all of the confusion and inner turmoil I was experiencing, I couldn't help but feel jealous about his childhood innocence. Things were so much simpler when I was his age. The only things I had to worry about were school, a few chores, and figuring out what video game I wanted to play next. The thought of work, money, or women never crossed my mind yet. And now, everything was at stake because of the latter. \n\nWith Dad home and my shoulders being crushed under the weight of me and Mom's enormous secret, so began the longest weekend of my life. It was just a normal two-day weekend, of course, but to me it felt like two weeks. Interacting with Mom or Dad felt nearly impossible, but I knew that hiding in my room for the duration of one of Dad's increasingly rare visits would be more suspicious than anything, so I forced myself to be in their presence while attempting to be on my phone as much as possible. Thankfully, Jess and Benny were able to pick up the slack socially where I couldn't, even if that only slightly lowered my anxiety at the time. Dad didn't seem to notice my aversion to conversation. \n\nI didn't sleep the night before (for obvious reasons), and I maybe got two hours total Saturday night. That ultimately being the majority of the reason why two days felt like an eternity, most of which was spent thinking about sex with my mom and the fallout that would ensue if anyone found out. Dad's presence made it impossible for me and Mom to get any time alone, so our talk didn't get to happen until Monday evening. Even though I slept a little bit better Sunday night, I ended up calling in sick to my Monday shift since I still felt exhausted and spaced out. \n\nUnfortunately, taking the day off didn't help me any. Instead, all it did was add another day onto a weekend of existential and circumstantial dread. I was hoping my talk with Mom would somehow fix the way I was feeling, but that hope was matched with an equal amount of anxiety. I didn't know what she was going to say, and I definitely didn't know what I was gonna say. All I knew was something had to change, and quick, because I was about to lose my mind. \n\nAs I said, we finally got to talk Monday evening. Dad left again in the late afternoon, just before dinner. Him leaving felt a lot more familiar than him coming home by that point. I stayed silent during the meal while Mom asked Jess and Benny about their days, respectively. Every so often, Mom and I exchanged an awkward, knowing glance across the table before turning our focus to something else. This was the first time I started to feel guilty about my siblings too. They were sitting there eating, having no idea that their brother and mother had committed such a twisted act together. Benny maybe wouldn't understand, but I couldn't imagine how big of a bombshell that would be to Jess. My lust had gotten in the way of logic, and now everything I had ever known was at stake. My relationships, my home, and my stability were all severely threatened just because I couldn't get over a perverted fantasy I cooked up in my mind. And now, it was no longer just a fantasy, but instead a really, really complicated reality. \n\nAfter dinner, Jess went for a drive with her friend, and Benny had retreated to his room to play some games. This left me and Mom to clean up the kitchen. We didn't talk, nor did we really look at one another. At most, we used non-verbal communication that strictly related to dishwashing and rinsing. The tension was palpable, even more so than before we \"sealed the deal.\" For whatever reason, I thought things would be easier afterwards, but that was obviously completely naive of me. \n\nThe dishes didn't take too long since we only had burgers for dinner, which was a shame since I would've much rather stayed silent and cleaned rather than talk. I would've rather done anything else, to be honest. But nope, a pan and a few plates later, the work was done, and talking was the only thing left to do. \n\nWe stood there looking around in any direction other than one another's. Mom leaned against the counter with her arms crossed, probably trying to figure out how to tackle the situation, which was more than I could say for myself. I was such a mess that I couldn't see any sort of solution or path forward. \n\nAfter about a solid two minutes of painfully awkward silence, Mom spoke first, \"I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to talk this weekend.\" \n\nI looked up at her, but not into her eyes, \"It's okay.\" \n\n\"No, I should've made time. It's important to talk to each other,\" she added compassionately. \n\n\"It's not your fault. I was kind of avoiding it, too.\" \n\n\"That's okay, honey. I understand.\" \n\nHer tone always calmed my nerves. She was so good at that. \n\n\"Do you want to talk now? I'd like to if you want.\" \n\n\"Sure,\" I replied, still unsure. \n\n\"Upstairs? My room?\" \n\nI nodded. \n\nTogether, we headed upstairs to Mom and Dad's bedroom. We could hear the muffled sounds of Benny's TV down the hall, which became more so once Mom shut the door. I flicked on the light before sitting down on her makeup table stool. Mom came over and sat in front of me on the foot of her queen-sized bed that resided in the center of the room. She sat up straight and rested her hands on her jeans-covered lap. I was more slouched, resting my weight on my knees with my forearms. \n\nOnce we got settled, the room fell silent just as the kitchen had been. The only sounds were the ceiling fan and the faint sound of Benny. \n\nShe took a deep breath and started, \"How are you feeling? Since the other night?\" \n\nIt's interesting how we can attribute so much meaning to such generalized words. For most people, hearing \"the other night\" might make you think of a million things, but chances are it wouldn't make you think of the time you had sex with your mother. \n\nAs awkward and closed-off as I felt, it only took a few moments of silence for me to come to the realization that Mom was literally the only person on the planet I could be open and honest with about this—since she's obviously the only other party involved—so I decided to speak my mind. \n\n\"Honestly...I feel like shit.\" I felt bad saying it, because I didn't want her to blame herself or think I was talking about anything she did. But it was the truth. \n\nShe had a look of sadness and guilt on her face in response, and her hands balled up into soft fists in her lap. \n\nShe didn't seem to know what to say, so I continued. \n\n\"I just feel so confused, Mom. I feel guilty, especially around Dad. And I'm terrified that someone's going to find out.\" \n\nMom nodded. \n\n\"I feel those things too, Bradley,\" she confessed after a pause. \n\nThat came as a surprise to me based on how calm and collected she seemed. But it was comforting to hear. \n\n\"I have so many questions and so much anxiety that I don't know where to begin to find answers.\" \n\nWhile I was still in extreme turmoil, it felt incredible to finally speak some of these thoughts into existence. \n\n\"Is there anything you wanted to ask me? Anything I can do to help?\" \n\nI had a few questions for her, but I led with the one I'd been pondering the most since it happened: \"Why? Why did you do that with me?\" \n\nWe made eye contact for the first time in a long while. I guess I was feeling more ready for it, since I didn't feel a need to look away. \n\n\"You seemed angry with me when you found the photos, and then just a few hours later, you completely changed your mind,\" I explained. \n\nMom looked down at her hands on her knees, almost with a look of embarrassment.\n\n\"And Dad... we cheated on him, didn't we? Doesn't that make us bad people?\" \n\nFor the moment, those were all the questions I had. It felt good to get them off my chest, but I also felt bad for inadvertently targeting Mom and putting everything on her. \n\nWe were both silent for a few moments. Benny cheered in the other room for achieving some sort of digital victory, breaking our uncomfortable silence and highlighting the contrast in energy between both rooms. \n\nMom took a deep breath, \"No. We're not bad people.\" \n\nWe made eye contact again. \n\n\"Bradley, your father and I... we haven't been good for a long time,\" she revealed. \n\nWhile a part of me suspected as much, hearing her actually confirm it made me sad. \n\nShe continued, \"In the beginning, when he took this job, we made it work. He would call me on his breaks and lunches, we would chat late at night, and he'd be home every other weekend. It was long distance, sure, but at that time, we didn't feel so far apart.\" \n\nI looked at her and listened intently. \n\n\"But as the years went on, the phone calls became less frequent. He would say he was too busy or too tired. What started out as a few missed phone calls here and there turned into a day or two where we didn't talk. And eventually, a few days turned into a week.\" \n\nAs she said this, I looked back and remembered thinking that I didn't hear her on the phone with Dad as much. I didn't understand the circumstances at the time, but now it was making sense. \n\n\"And as you know, he started coming home less often. We wouldn't see him for three weeks to a month at a time.\" \n\nThat one I definitely understood. And frankly, that had been making me resent Dad, too. \n\n\"There have been mistakes on both of our parts, but sometimes, these things just naturally happen. I'm sure he's felt the same way about me.\" \n\nDespite everything, Mom still refused to place all of the blame on Dad. Maybe she was right, but from where I was sitting, he definitely deserved more of it than she did. \n\n\"Have you heard the phrase, \"Absence makes the heart grow fonder?\"\" \n\nI nodded. \n\n\"Well, that isn't always true. Absence can also create a lot of hurt and resentment, just as easily as it can create loneliness and estrangement. Those are all the things I've been feeling over the past couple of years.\" \n\n\"Mom, I... I don't know what to say.\" \n\nShe smiled softly with a tear in the corner of her eye, \"Oh, sweetie, there's nothing you need to say. All of that's between your father and me. It's not your place to fix it.\" \n\n\"So that's why you decided to... do 'that' with me? Because of Dad?\" \n\nMom shook her head before leaning in and taking my hand, \"It's part of it, but no, that's not the only reason.\" \n\n\"So then, why?\" \n\nShe paused for a moment before looking deep into my eyes, \"There are a number of reasons, honey, but the biggest one... is because I love you.\" \n\nMy heart fluttered and skipped a beat. I wasn't expecting that. \n\n\"Well, I love you too, Mom. But...\" \n\n\"But?\" \n\n\"You're my mom. That's not the kind of love we're supposed to have, right?\" \n\nShe paused again. I think she was slightly taken aback by the maturity of my question. Hell, even I was a little surprised. The silence returned for a moment as Mom crafted her response. At this point, I was eager to hear what she had to say. \n\nEventually, she spoke, \"I think... I think that's for us to decide.\" \n\nI looked at her and waited for her to continue. \n\n\"It's not traditional; I realize that. And a lot of people say it's wrong. But why should anyone else get to determine our relationship? It's not them, it's us.\" \n\nI nodded in agreement. She had a point. \n\n\"Baby, I know it's strange. I know it's complicated. But the truth of the matter is... I'm attracted to you. I... have been for some time.\" \n\nJust like the other night, I couldn't believe my ears. I could feel myself blushing and my heart rate increasing. \n\nShe lowered her voice, \"That's the reason I did that with you. You're my son, yes, but you're also a man. A man I've loved since day one, a man who I trust more than any other. I can't think of anyone more deserving or anyone I'd rather have that kind of love with. Even if it's not considered \"traditional\" or \"right\".\" \n\nMy heart was racing and my head was pulsing. All of it felt so surreal. While part of me was absolutely delighted to hear those words, the other, more anxious part of me was fighting back. I could tell Mom's eyes were trained on me, desperately awaiting a response. But I needed a moment to think. A moment to process. I stood up and began to pace back and forth across the carpet. \n\nAs I moved about my parents bedroom, contemplating the biggest decision of my life, Mom added a postscript to her profession. \n\n\"Sweetie, I don't want to pressure you. It's okay if you don't feel the same way. But you know...what happened, happened. We made that decision together, and there's no undoing it. So now we have to decide... how do we move on from it? What do we want our relationship to be like going forward?\" \n\nShe was right, and I could tell she was trying to help me think through my feelings. Basically, I had two options: 1) pretend what happened didn't happen and try to go back to the way things used to be while still carrying that secret, or 2) embrace what happened, embrace our feelings, and let my relationship with Mom flourish while still keeping the same secret. One would be not only lying to everyone else, but also to ourselves. The other would be getting to express ourselves freely while keeping it from the world. \n\nThe logic of it was starting to become more clear to me, but even though the decision might seem obvious on paper, it was still a difficult one in my head. \n\nI finally updated her on where I was at: \"I don't know, Mom. I just know that I don't want anybody to get hurt. I don't want someone to find out, and then Benny or Jess pay the price because of us. I don't want everything we have here to come crashing down.\" \n\nStill sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked up at me with all of the compassion in the world, \"I know, love, I know. Neither do I.\" \n\nI sighed heavily, \"But at the same time... I don't want to stop.\" \n\nHer head tilted slightly and one of her eyebrows raised, \"What do you mean, honey?\" \n\n\"I mean that... I want to have that kind of love with you. Even if it's not traditional.\" \n\n\"Y-you do?\" Her triangular ears perked up, and her tail twitched. \n\n\"Of course I do. I mean, you're my mom. Like you said, there's nobody I love or trust more. And no matter what happens from here on out, you were and always will be my first.\" \n\n\"Bradley...\" \n\nI looked my mother directly in the eyes, \"And to be extremely honest, the idea of getting to be with you like that drives me absolutely wild. I still haven't really wrapped my head around Friday night, which is partly why my head is so screwy right now.\" \n\n\"I know, baby. I understand.\" \n\nI was on a roll, and I wasn't going to stop there. It was time to let it all out: \"Over the weekend, part of me thought I wanted to go back and undo what happened. But the more I thought about it, I decided that I don't want to go back. I want to go forward... with you.\" \n\nShe looked up at me, her purple eyes fluttering. \n\n\"But as much as I want that, I'm just so worried about what could happen, you know? And I don't know how to manage both of those feelings. It feels impossible.\" \n\n\"I know. I feel the same way,\" she confessed, \"it's a scary thing, and there are so many unknowns.\" \n\nThat caught me by surprise based on her Oscar-worthy performance over the weekend. \n\n\"Really? But it seems so easy for you. When Dad was here, you didn't seem the slightest bit fazed.\" \n\n\"It might look that way, but I've had all of those same thoughts you've had. The fear, the anxiety, all of the possible outcomes of that decision. Baby, I'm in the same boat with you.\" \n\nMom's admittance to this was both comforting and concerning. In my desperate search for a solution to this conundrum, I'd felt like she had all of the answers. While it was definitely a relief to know I wasn't the only one experiencing this inner conflict, it also made things feel a lot less stable. If neither of us knew what to do, then what was the answer? \n\n\"How do you keep them at bay? The anxious thoughts and endless what-ifs? How do you go about your day with such a big secret?\" I demanded more forcefully than I intended. \n\nThe room fell silent again for a moment. Honestly, it was a much-needed reprieve after pouring both our hearts out. While Mom formulated her response, I paced over to the window and looked outside. The sun was nearly set. It was so quiet, you could hear the crickets even with the windows closed. No answers would be found out there, unfortunately. \n\nAfter probably a two-or-so-minute-long pause, Mom got off the bed and came over to me. She stood beside me, with her extra four inches of height. She too looked out at the day's dying light while taking my bare hand into her furry one. \n\n\"You know what I keep coming back to? How I can compartmentalize what happened?\" she asked. \n\n\"No, Mom. Please tell me.\" \n\nShe paused, then said, \"I think about how good it felt.\" \n\nI looked up into her eyes with an inquiring gaze. \n\n\"I think about how good it felt to share that moment with you. How good it felt to express my love with someone so close to me and have them return that love equally. How it felt to share all of myself with you instead of just a fraction. \n\n\"Mom...\" \n\nHer voice became soft and velvety, \"I think about, if we can manage our lives and relationships accordingly, all of the different ways we could keep expressing our love that way.\" \n\nI couldn't find the words to respond, \"Mom... I... don't....\" \n\nAnd what she said next left me utterly dumbfounded. \n\n\"And, quite frankly, one of the things I think about the most... I think about how good it felt to have my baby inside of me.\" \n\nA shiver went down my spine, and goosebumps consumed every inch of my skin. Blood began to rush into my shaft. Did my own mother really just say that? \n\n\"Having sex, making love, fucking... it's the most pure, complete way to express your love to someone. It's the most powerful display of affection possible.\" \n\nMy head and heart were reeling, so I let her speak while I tried not to have a full-blown panic attack from being so overwhelmed. \n\nShe turned to face me and turned me towards her before taking my hands into hers. \n\n\"Like I said, there are many reasons I decided to do that with you. You know some of them now. But the main reason, the one above all else... is because I love you. I love you so, so much, Bradley. And I wanted to show you just how much. Not just emotionally, but physically.\" \n\nI wasn't sure what expression was on my face, but I hoped it was one of empathy and understanding. \n\nHer amethyst eyes were slightly welling up, \"So, you see, if you focus on the reasons you're doing it instead of the bad things that might happen, those bad things become a lot less scary.\" \n\nI knew it. I knew she would be the one to make it all make sense. If there was anyone who could ease the turmoil inside of me, it was her. \n\nShe smiled and made her last point, \"If we're both adults, and we're both on the same page about what we want, I don't see why we should deprive ourselves of that. I don't see how that's a bad thing. Especially when it could be so special.\" \n\nI still didn't know what to say, but I knew enough that I nodded in agreement. She was completely right, and that's exactly how I felt. \n\nMom let out a small laugh of relief as a tear rolled down her cheek, \"Sorry, heh. This was a lot,\" she wiped it away, \"I love you, honey. With all of my heart.\" \n\n\"I love you too, Mom. Don't be sorry,\" I replied for the first time in a while, giving an awkward smile along with it. \n\nShe smiled brightly and gave me a big, warm she-wolf hug. It felt amazing to be in her arms again after feeling so distant for the past few days. And quite honestly, with how our conversation just went, I was getting rather excited about a possible naked she-wolf hug in the near future.... \n\nThe air had been finally cleared, at least between the two of us. Nothing was guaranteed or set in stone regarding the future, but for the time being, the continuation of our normal (albeit forever altered) life seemed possible. \n\nMom and I stood like that for a minute or two, in a tight embrace with our chests pushed against each other. While I felt a lot better, there was still one lingering question I couldn't get out of my head. It wasn't nearly as important as the other things we discussed, but I couldn't help but mull it over all weekend. \n\n\"Mom?\" I asked. \n\n\"Yes, baby?\" \n\n\"You... you really enjoyed it that much? I had no idea what I was doing, and it was over so fast...\" \n\nShe pulled back on our hug to look in my eyes. \n\nWith her hands still on my shoulders like a high school slow dance, she began, \"Oh, my love, it was your first time for heaven's sake. That stuff doesn't matter.\" \n\n\"I know, but I just feel like you deserved so much better. I felt so lame...\" \n\n\"Oh honey... please don't be so hard on yourself,\" she said compassionately. \"I know it was new. I know it was awkward and weird to see each other that way. But it still meant the world to me, and I loved every second of it. I hope you never doubt that.\" \n\nMom was literally the best person in the world. There seemed to be no end to her bottomless pool of love and understanding. From an outsider's perspective, the incest might be an unforgivable sin. But since she's my mother and not yours, the most you'll be able to understand is from reading my recounting of our relationship. \n\nI gave her another big hug, \"I love you, Mom.\" \n\nShe hugged me back, \"I love you, too.\" \n\nWhen the second hug eventually ended, she added, \"And you know, sweetie, all those things you're worried about... all of that gets better with practice....\" \n\nWe both grinned deviously, knowing exactly \"what more practice\" meant. My cheeks turned red, and hers became warm under her white fur. Even though the whole conversation had been leading that way, this was the closest we'd come to flat-out saying that we were going to keep having sex. \n\nI took a step back and rubbed the back of my head whilst looking at the floor. \"So, um, how? Or, uh, I mean, like... when do we practice? Or... \"I stammered. \n\nShe put her hand over her mouth and giggled at my nervousness but somehow was able to translate and understand my gibberish. \n\n\"How about this... we take things slow, and we do what feels natural as it comes?\" \n\nI nodded and took a deep breath. My heart was racing again, and I was starting to get another hard-on. \n\nShe put a hand on my cheek, \"There's no need to rush things. We take it one step at a time, while still being careful and picking our moments wisely, right?\" \n\nI nodded anxiously, \"R-right.\" \n\nShe smiled before leaning down to meet my height and kiss me on the cheek, \"I love you, honey.\" \n\nBefore her face left mine, I kissed her back, albeit her neck more than her cheek. It came off more passionate and aggressive than I realized, so the true emotion behind it was more than clear to my mother. When our eyes met again, hers were half-lidded with a fire in them I'd only seen once before; the one I saw only a few nights earlier. She also wore a devious smile that was just as telling. \n\nI don't know what my face was doing, but based on her reaction, it was probably pretty clear that I wanted to fuck her again. \n\nIt was blatantly obvious what we were both thinking, but the delicate nature of our conversation left us both in a vulnerable state where we mutually decided that now probably wasn't the best time. \n\n\"I... I'm tired, Bradley. I think I'm going to grab a shower then turn in,\" she explained, burying her true feelings. \n\nI echoed her deception, trying not to seem too desperate, \"Yeah, I think I'll go game for a bit and do the same. I'm tired too.\" \n\nWe said goodnight before we parted ways for the evening, our hearts and minds fulfilled, our bodies not so much. Mom showered in their bathroom, and I decided to take one in the downstairs bathroom. As I undressed, got the water running, and started brushing my teeth, I realized how different I felt after our conversation. Before our talk, I was an amalgamation of anxiety, fear, and regret. But now, all of those things had shrunk down until they were almost non-existent, and a new concoction was taking me over: one of excitement, hope, and lust. A LOT of lust. For the first time since it happened, I was actually able to reflect on that night without a negative lens clouding my judgment. \n\nThe thing I'd been fantasizing and drooling about for months had actually come to fruition. The woman who raised me, one of the most attractive, generous, amazing people on the planet, shared her perfect body with me. My own mother slept with me. And it was so. Fucking. Good. And on top of it all... it was only the beginning. \n\nTruth be told, at that point, I was THIS close to turning the tap off, wrapping a towel around my waist, and going upstairs to shower with Mom instead. With how riled up I was feeling and knowing she was up there all naked and lathered up, it was just about too much to resist. But I wasn't that bold yet, and there was a reason we were deciding to wait. I still needed a release, though, and that's something that couldn't wait. \n\nI stood in the shower with one hand on the wall for support and the other vigorously stroking my throbbing cock. The hot water enveloped me as I closed my eyes, imagining my wet hand as my mother's pussy. My hand no longer felt nearly as good after experiencing the real thing, but I was optimistic about the possibility of having to use it less going forward. That possibility made me harder and my stroking faster. Having not even realized it, I'd begun bucking my hips forward into my hand, visualizing Mom's round butt cheeks pushed firmly against my crotch. My libido was back and stronger than ever. I was ready. \n\nIt only took me a couple of minutes to cum. I sprayed all over the shower wall with one of the biggest loads I'd ever had. All of my pent-up stress and arousal over the past few days dripped down the white tiles. And yes, the hot water made it a pain in the ass to clean up, but the relief was definitely worth it. \n\nNow, it's easy to put fear or common sense on the back burner when you're horned up, but it's that \"post-nut clarity\" that pulls you back to reality and brings how you truly feel up to the surface. Much to my surprise, even after giving the shower a fresh coat of paint, I felt completely fine. Sure, that base level of anxiety from keeping a secret was still present and it always would be, but the crippling fear I'd felt for the last three days was nowhere to be seen. For the first time in about a year, Mom and I were finally on the same page, and I couldn't have been more excited for what the future held.\n\nLittle did I know that said future wasn't so far away. You see, I didn't know this until a little bit later, but apparently, that same evening I was cranking it out in the shower, Mom was upstairs with two fingers buried inside of her, doing the exact same thing.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "If you're reading this, then I assume you're probably wondering what happened after that night. I also assume when I say "that night," you know exactly which fateful evening I'm referring to. The night where my life changed forever. The night where I became more than just a son.

And if you're new here, you may want to go back to my first entry in order to get some additional, if not necessary, context before we get back into it.

Whether or not you're familiar with what happened, here are the cliff notes so that we're all on the same page:

About a month ago, my own mother fucked me. Not some cougar or a step-mom situation, my real, biological mother. After she discovered some naked photos of her that I stole off her phone and used as fap material for an extended period of time, she snuck into my room late at night, had a revealing conversation with me, then stripped down... and rode me. I came (obviously), she didn't (also obviously), and after only a few short, delirious minutes of something I'd spent months fantasizing about, I was alone in my room, my virginity was taken, and my relationship with my mom was completely and irreparably altered.

This might be a lot to process for those of you who are new, and trust me... I get it. It was a hell of a lot for me to process too.

As good as it felt in the moment, and even though she tried to be comforting right after it happened, things were pretty complicated after. Well, for a little while at least.

First of all, our timing couldn't have been worse since Dad had just come home for the weekend.

His voice made me jump and made my ears ring, "Hello, hello!" He called out the same way he always had when he entered the house, briefcase in hand and still dressed up as if he was arriving at the courthouse. I seldom saw him in casual attire at that point. So little, that he barely felt like my father sometimes and more like some soulless salesman. As much as I didn't want to admit (and still don't), he started feeling more and more like a stranger to me, especially when he wasn't home. It'd definitely put a strain on our relationship, one that was strong enough where it allowed me to push through the guilt and do what I ended up doing the night prior.

But at the end of the day, he was still my father. And I loved him. So trying to pretend that I hadn't just committed one of the most egregious acts of adultery with his wife was going to be rather difficult.

"Hey, Dad," I said casually from the kitchen.

He put his briefcase down by the shoe rack and walked over, "Hey buddy, up a little early for a Saturday, aren't you?"

I finished taking a sip of water, "Yeah a bit, I guess. Couldn't really sleep."

"Up all night partying?"

That was one way to put it.

His question immediately triggered images that almost short-circuited me. Mom posing naked for me, her breasts in my face, looking down and seeing her vagina slide up and down on my cock. I could hear her moans and feel her warm grip. Even though parts of the experience were fuzzy, there were certain elements I would never forget.

"Haha, not really, just didn't sleep well," was the reply I decided to go with.

"Ah, okay. Well, maybe you could grab a nap later," he suggested before walking over and pulling me in for a hug.

Just as I wrapped my arms around him, I could hear his snout working. He was sniffing with purpose, like one of the border officer canines sniffing for illegal drugs.

"You smell... different..." his voice was filled with suspicion.

My heart began to race, and I could feel my face getting hot. It was at that precise moment when I realized just how close I was to being caught. If I hadn't taken a shower only fifteen minutes earlier, Dad would've smelled Mom all over me. Her fur, her saliva, her other fluids... everything. We would've been finished, literally only a few hours after we'd started. I hadn't even considered that.

"You smell like your mother..." he said, sounding almost like a gradeschooler trying to get on his friend's nerves.

My conscience almost made me spill the truth and reply something along the lines of, "Yeah, because we were fucking this morning." Thankfully, I was still in the driver's seat and was able to avoid that world-ending disaster.

"Oh yeah... well, uh, Mom let me try on a few of her old hoodies. She might donate them, but I thought I'd see if they fit."

I surprised myself with that one. It came out of the blue, it made enough sense, and it seemed to get Dad off the scent (literally). Before he could ask more questions or poke any holes in my alibi, Mom popped down the stairs.

"Hi, hun! Welcome home," she greeted.

She caught me off guard, as I didn't hear her coming downstairs. This was the first time I'd seen her since we had sex a few hours before, and simply being in her presence again was extremely unsettling.

"So good to see you, Heather," Dad replied.

His use of her name rather than a nickname came across as impersonal and oddly cold. Despite trying to keep myself in check by preserving the remainder of my sleep-deprived brain's power for keeping this massive secret, I couldn't help but wonder if Dad's strange greeting wasn't a sign of trouble with their relationship. I mean, I obviously knew Mom was lonely, or else we wouldn't have done what we did. However, at that point, I didn't have any reason to think there were other problems between my mother and father. As far as I knew, Mom and I had cast the first stone.

"How was the drive?" she asked after going up to him and giving him a less-than-passionate hug.

"Oh, you know, long as always," he chuckled.

Their exchange felt no more intimate than acquaintances in a workplace, but I couldn’t tell if I was the only one who saw it that way. Because as strange as I found their interaction, what threw me off even more was Mom's ability to act like everything was completely normal.

"Should I throw a pot of coffee on? Maybe some eggs?" she asked.

He placed his briefcase on the floor and slid off his shoes. "Sounds good to me," he answered.

Then... she looked directly at me. Her gaze alone made my heart beat faster and my spine tingle. I thought that after last night we'd both be walking on eggshells, struggling to keep this new perversion a secret. But she was cool as a cucumber, and I seemed to be the only one at risk of spilling the beans.

"Bradley, would you like some breakfast too?"

Even her voice hit my ears differently now. Her moans of pleasure were still fresh in my mind, and every word out of her mouth reminded me of them. At that point, I saw my mother almost as a completely different person; just about every aspect of her.

Despite my distracted mind, I managed to force out a half-hearted, unconfident "sure." Dad walked past me to go sit down in the kitchen. Mom gave me a warm smile, which only reminded me of the one she gave me the night before when she was naked in my room.

She put her hand on my shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Her touch nearly made me jump, giving me vivid flashbacks of her hand stroking my cock and her arms wrapped around me as she straddled me. Obviously this whole thing was still brand new, but I don't think there's ever been a time in my life where I felt that conflicted or that confused.

"I... I think so," I said with little to no confidence.

Mom lowered her head to mine and pecked me on the cheek, "You sure, sweetheart? Want to talk later?"

I nodded before she went and got started on breakfast. It wasn't too long afterwards that Benny came barreling down the stairs screaming excitedly for Dad's return. With all of the confusion and inner turmoil I was experiencing, I couldn't help but feel jealous about his childhood innocence. Things were so much simpler when I was his age. The only things I had to worry about were school, a few chores, and figuring out what video game I wanted to play next. The thought of work, money, or women never crossed my mind yet. And now, everything was at stake because of the latter.

With Dad home and my shoulders being crushed under the weight of me and Mom's enormous secret, so began the longest weekend of my life. It was just a normal two-day weekend, of course, but to me it felt like two weeks. Interacting with Mom or Dad felt nearly impossible, but I knew that hiding in my room for the duration of one of Dad's increasingly rare visits would be more suspicious than anything, so I forced myself to be in their presence while attempting to be on my phone as much as possible. Thankfully, Jess and Benny were able to pick up the slack socially where I couldn't, even if that only slightly lowered my anxiety at the time. Dad didn't seem to notice my aversion to conversation.

I didn't sleep the night before (for obvious reasons), and I maybe got two hours total Saturday night. That ultimately being the majority of the reason why two days felt like an eternity, most of which was spent thinking about sex with my mom and the fallout that would ensue if anyone found out. Dad's presence made it impossible for me and Mom to get any time alone, so our talk didn't get to happen until Monday evening. Even though I slept a little bit better Sunday night, I ended up calling in sick to my Monday shift since I still felt exhausted and spaced out.

Unfortunately, taking the day off didn't help me any. Instead, all it did was add another day onto a weekend of existential and circumstantial dread. I was hoping my talk with Mom would somehow fix the way I was feeling, but that hope was matched with an equal amount of anxiety. I didn't know what she was going to say, and I definitely didn't know what I was gonna say. All I knew was something had to change, and quick, because I was about to lose my mind.

As I said, we finally got to talk Monday evening. Dad left again in the late afternoon, just before dinner. Him leaving felt a lot more familiar than him coming home by that point. I stayed silent during the meal while Mom asked Jess and Benny about their days, respectively. Every so often, Mom and I exchanged an awkward, knowing glance across the table before turning our focus to something else. This was the first time I started to feel guilty about my siblings too. They were sitting there eating, having no idea that their brother and mother had committed such a twisted act together. Benny maybe wouldn't understand, but I couldn't imagine how big of a bombshell that would be to Jess. My lust had gotten in the way of logic, and now everything I had ever known was at stake. My relationships, my home, and my stability were all severely threatened just because I couldn't get over a perverted fantasy I cooked up in my mind. And now, it was no longer just a fantasy, but instead a really, really complicated reality.

After dinner, Jess went for a drive with her friend, and Benny had retreated to his room to play some games. This left me and Mom to clean up the kitchen. We didn't talk, nor did we really look at one another. At most, we used non-verbal communication that strictly related to dishwashing and rinsing. The tension was palpable, even more so than before we "sealed the deal." For whatever reason, I thought things would be easier afterwards, but that was obviously completely naive of me.

The dishes didn't take too long since we only had burgers for dinner, which was a shame since I would've much rather stayed silent and cleaned rather than talk. I would've rather done anything else, to be honest. But nope, a pan and a few plates later, the work was done, and talking was the only thing left to do.

We stood there looking around in any direction other than one another's. Mom leaned against the counter with her arms crossed, probably trying to figure out how to tackle the situation, which was more than I could say for myself. I was such a mess that I couldn't see any sort of solution or path forward.

After about a solid two minutes of painfully awkward silence, Mom spoke first, "I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to talk this weekend."

I looked up at her, but not into her eyes, "It's okay."

"No, I should've made time. It's important to talk to each other," she added compassionately.

"It's not your fault. I was kind of avoiding it, too."

"That's okay, honey. I understand."

Her tone always calmed my nerves. She was so good at that.

"Do you want to talk now? I'd like to if you want."

"Sure," I replied, still unsure.

"Upstairs? My room?"

I nodded.

Together, we headed upstairs to Mom and Dad's bedroom. We could hear the muffled sounds of Benny's TV down the hall, which became more so once Mom shut the door. I flicked on the light before sitting down on her makeup table stool. Mom came over and sat in front of me on the foot of her queen-sized bed that resided in the center of the room. She sat up straight and rested her hands on her jeans-covered lap. I was more slouched, resting my weight on my knees with my forearms.

Once we got settled, the room fell silent just as the kitchen had been. The only sounds were the ceiling fan and the faint sound of Benny.

She took a deep breath and started, "How are you feeling? Since the other night?"

It's interesting how we can attribute so much meaning to such generalized words. For most people, hearing "the other night" might make you think of a million things, but chances are it wouldn't make you think of the time you had sex with your mother.

As awkward and closed-off as I felt, it only took a few moments of silence for me to come to the realization that Mom was literally the only person on the planet I could be open and honest with about this—since she's obviously the only other party involved—so I decided to speak my mind.

"Honestly...I feel like shit." I felt bad saying it, because I didn't want her to blame herself or think I was talking about anything she did. But it was the truth.

She had a look of sadness and guilt on her face in response, and her hands balled up into soft fists in her lap.

She didn't seem to know what to say, so I continued.

"I just feel so confused, Mom. I feel guilty, especially around Dad. And I'm terrified that someone's going to find out."

Mom nodded.

"I feel those things too, Bradley," she confessed after a pause.

That came as a surprise to me based on how calm and collected she seemed. But it was comforting to hear.

"I have so many questions and so much anxiety that I don't know where to begin to find answers."

While I was still in extreme turmoil, it felt incredible to finally speak some of these thoughts into existence.

"Is there anything you wanted to ask me? Anything I can do to help?"

I had a few questions for her, but I led with the one I'd been pondering the most since it happened: "Why? Why did you do that with me?"

We made eye contact for the first time in a long while. I guess I was feeling more ready for it, since I didn't feel a need to look away.

"You seemed angry with me when you found the photos, and then just a few hours later, you completely changed your mind," I explained.

Mom looked down at her hands on her knees, almost with a look of embarrassment.

"And Dad... we cheated on him, didn't we? Doesn't that make us bad people?"

For the moment, those were all the questions I had. It felt good to get them off my chest, but I also felt bad for inadvertently targeting Mom and putting everything on her.

We were both silent for a few moments. Benny cheered in the other room for achieving some sort of digital victory, breaking our uncomfortable silence and highlighting the contrast in energy between both rooms.

Mom took a deep breath, "No. We're not bad people."

We made eye contact again.

"Bradley, your father and I... we haven't been good for a long time," she revealed.

While a part of me suspected as much, hearing her actually confirm it made me sad.

She continued, "In the beginning, when he took this job, we made it work. He would call me on his breaks and lunches, we would chat late at night, and he'd be home every other weekend. It was long distance, sure, but at that time, we didn't feel so far apart."

I looked at her and listened intently.

"But as the years went on, the phone calls became less frequent. He would say he was too busy or too tired. What started out as a few missed phone calls here and there turned into a day or two where we didn't talk. And eventually, a few days turned into a week."

As she said this, I looked back and remembered thinking that I didn't hear her on the phone with Dad as much. I didn't understand the circumstances at the time, but now it was making sense.

"And as you know, he started coming home less often. We wouldn't see him for three weeks to a month at a time."

That one I definitely understood. And frankly, that had been making me resent Dad, too.

"There have been mistakes on both of our parts, but sometimes, these things just naturally happen. I'm sure he's felt the same way about me."

Despite everything, Mom still refused to place all of the blame on Dad. Maybe she was right, but from where I was sitting, he definitely deserved more of it than she did.

"Have you heard the phrase, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder?""

I nodded.

"Well, that isn't always true. Absence can also create a lot of hurt and resentment, just as easily as it can create loneliness and estrangement. Those are all the things I've been feeling over the past couple of years."

"Mom, I... I don't know what to say."

She smiled softly with a tear in the corner of her eye, "Oh, sweetie, there's nothing you need to say. All of that's between your father and me. It's not your place to fix it."

"So that's why you decided to... do 'that' with me? Because of Dad?"

Mom shook her head before leaning in and taking my hand, "It's part of it, but no, that's not the only reason."

"So then, why?"

She paused for a moment before looking deep into my eyes, "There are a number of reasons, honey, but the biggest one... is because I love you."

My heart fluttered and skipped a beat. I wasn't expecting that.

"Well, I love you too, Mom. But..."

"But?"

"You're my mom. That's not the kind of love we're supposed to have, right?"

She paused again. I think she was slightly taken aback by the maturity of my question. Hell, even I was a little surprised. The silence returned for a moment as Mom crafted her response. At this point, I was eager to hear what she had to say.

Eventually, she spoke, "I think... I think that's for us to decide."

I looked at her and waited for her to continue.

"It's not traditional; I realize that. And a lot of people say it's wrong. But why should anyone else get to determine our relationship? It's not them, it's us."

I nodded in agreement. She had a point.

"Baby, I know it's strange. I know it's complicated. But the truth of the matter is... I'm attracted to you. I... have been for some time."

Just like the other night, I couldn't believe my ears. I could feel myself blushing and my heart rate increasing.

She lowered her voice, "That's the reason I did that with you. You're my son, yes, but you're also a man. A man I've loved since day one, a man who I trust more than any other. I can't think of anyone more deserving or anyone I'd rather have that kind of love with. Even if it's not considered "traditional" or "right"."

My heart was racing and my head was pulsing. All of it felt so surreal. While part of me was absolutely delighted to hear those words, the other, more anxious part of me was fighting back. I could tell Mom's eyes were trained on me, desperately awaiting a response. But I needed a moment to think. A moment to process. I stood up and began to pace back and forth across the carpet.

As I moved about my parents bedroom, contemplating the biggest decision of my life, Mom added a postscript to her profession.

"Sweetie, I don't want to pressure you. It's okay if you don't feel the same way. But you know...what happened, happened. We made that decision together, and there's no undoing it. So now we have to decide... how do we move on from it? What do we want our relationship to be like going forward?"

She was right, and I could tell she was trying to help me think through my feelings. Basically, I had two options: 1) pretend what happened didn't happen and try to go back to the way things used to be while still carrying that secret, or 2) embrace what happened, embrace our feelings, and let my relationship with Mom flourish while still keeping the same secret. One would be not only lying to everyone else, but also to ourselves. The other would be getting to express ourselves freely while keeping it from the world.

The logic of it was starting to become more clear to me, but even though the decision might seem obvious on paper, it was still a difficult one in my head.

I finally updated her on where I was at: "I don't know, Mom. I just know that I don't want anybody to get hurt. I don't want someone to find out, and then Benny or Jess pay the price because of us. I don't want everything we have here to come crashing down."

Still sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked up at me with all of the compassion in the world, "I know, love, I know. Neither do I."

I sighed heavily, "But at the same time... I don't want to stop."

Her head tilted slightly and one of her eyebrows raised, "What do you mean, honey?"

"I mean that... I want to have that kind of love with you. Even if it's not traditional."

"Y-you do?" Her triangular ears perked up, and her tail twitched.

"Of course I do. I mean, you're my mom. Like you said, there's nobody I love or trust more. And no matter what happens from here on out, you were and always will be my first."

"Bradley..."

I looked my mother directly in the eyes, "And to be extremely honest, the idea of getting to be with you like that drives me absolutely wild. I still haven't really wrapped my head around Friday night, which is partly why my head is so screwy right now."

"I know, baby. I understand."

I was on a roll, and I wasn't going to stop there. It was time to let it all out: "Over the weekend, part of me thought I wanted to go back and undo what happened. But the more I thought about it, I decided that I don't want to go back. I want to go forward... with you."

She looked up at me, her purple eyes fluttering.

"But as much as I want that, I'm just so worried about what could happen, you know? And I don't know how to manage both of those feelings. It feels impossible."

"I know. I feel the same way," she confessed, "it's a scary thing, and there are so many unknowns."

That caught me by surprise based on her Oscar-worthy performance over the weekend.

"Really? But it seems so easy for you. When Dad was here, you didn't seem the slightest bit fazed."

"It might look that way, but I've had all of those same thoughts you've had. The fear, the anxiety, all of the possible outcomes of that decision. Baby, I'm in the same boat with you."

Mom's admittance to this was both comforting and concerning. In my desperate search for a solution to this conundrum, I'd felt like she had all of the answers. While it was definitely a relief to know I wasn't the only one experiencing this inner conflict, it also made things feel a lot less stable. If neither of us knew what to do, then what was the answer?

"How do you keep them at bay? The anxious thoughts and endless what-ifs? How do you go about your day with such a big secret?" I demanded more forcefully than I intended.

The room fell silent again for a moment. Honestly, it was a much-needed reprieve after pouring both our hearts out. While Mom formulated her response, I paced over to the window and looked outside. The sun was nearly set. It was so quiet, you could hear the crickets even with the windows closed. No answers would be found out there, unfortunately.

After probably a two-or-so-minute-long pause, Mom got off the bed and came over to me. She stood beside me, with her extra four inches of height. She too looked out at the day's dying light while taking my bare hand into her furry one.

"You know what I keep coming back to? How I can compartmentalize what happened?" she asked.

"No, Mom. Please tell me."

She paused, then said, "I think about how good it felt."

I looked up into her eyes with an inquiring gaze.

"I think about how good it felt to share that moment with you. How good it felt to express my love with someone so close to me and have them return that love equally. How it felt to share all of myself with you instead of just a fraction.

"Mom..."

Her voice became soft and velvety, "I think about, if we can manage our lives and relationships accordingly, all of the different ways we could keep expressing our love that way."

I couldn't find the words to respond, "Mom... I... don't...."

And what she said next left me utterly dumbfounded.

"And, quite frankly, one of the things I think about the most... I think about how good it felt to have my baby inside of me."

A shiver went down my spine, and goosebumps consumed every inch of my skin. Blood began to rush into my shaft. Did my own mother really just say that?

"Having sex, making love, fucking... it's the most pure, complete way to express your love to someone. It's the most powerful display of affection possible."

My head and heart were reeling, so I let her speak while I tried not to have a full-blown panic attack from being so overwhelmed.

She turned to face me and turned me towards her before taking my hands into hers.

"Like I said, there are many reasons I decided to do that with you. You know some of them now. But the main reason, the one above all else... is because I love you. I love you so, so much, Bradley. And I wanted to show you just how much. Not just emotionally, but physically."

I wasn't sure what expression was on my face, but I hoped it was one of empathy and understanding.

Her amethyst eyes were slightly welling up, "So, you see, if you focus on the reasons you're doing it instead of the bad things that might happen, those bad things become a lot less scary."

I knew it. I knew she would be the one to make it all make sense. If there was anyone who could ease the turmoil inside of me, it was her.

She smiled and made her last point, "If we're both adults, and we're both on the same page about what we want, I don't see why we should deprive ourselves of that. I don't see how that's a bad thing. Especially when it could be so special."

I still didn't know what to say, but I knew enough that I nodded in agreement. She was completely right, and that's exactly how I felt.

Mom let out a small laugh of relief as a tear rolled down her cheek, "Sorry, heh. This was a lot," she wiped it away, "I love you, honey. With all of my heart."

"I love you too, Mom. Don't be sorry," I replied for the first time in a while, giving an awkward smile along with it.

She smiled brightly and gave me a big, warm she-wolf hug. It felt amazing to be in her arms again after feeling so distant for the past few days. And quite honestly, with how our conversation just went, I was getting rather excited about a possible naked she-wolf hug in the near future....

The air had been finally cleared, at least between the two of us. Nothing was guaranteed or set in stone regarding the future, but for the time being, the continuation of our normal (albeit forever altered) life seemed possible.

Mom and I stood like that for a minute or two, in a tight embrace with our chests pushed against each other. While I felt a lot better, there was still one lingering question I couldn't get out of my head. It wasn't nearly as important as the other things we discussed, but I couldn't help but mull it over all weekend.

"Mom?" I asked.

"Yes, baby?"

"You... you really enjoyed it that much? I had no idea what I was doing, and it was over so fast..."

She pulled back on our hug to look in my eyes.

With her hands still on my shoulders like a high school slow dance, she began, "Oh, my love, it was your first time for heaven's sake. That stuff doesn't matter."

"I know, but I just feel like you deserved so much better. I felt so lame..."

"Oh honey... please don't be so hard on yourself," she said compassionately. "I know it was new. I know it was awkward and weird to see each other that way. But it still meant the world to me, and I loved every second of it. I hope you never doubt that."

Mom was literally the best person in the world. There seemed to be no end to her bottomless pool of love and understanding. From an outsider's perspective, the incest might be an unforgivable sin. But since she's my mother and not yours, the most you'll be able to understand is from reading my recounting of our relationship.

I gave her another big hug, "I love you, Mom."

She hugged me back, "I love you, too."

When the second hug eventually ended, she added, "And you know, sweetie, all those things you're worried about... all of that gets better with practice...."

We both grinned deviously, knowing exactly "what more practice" meant. My cheeks turned red, and hers became warm under her white fur. Even though the whole conversation had been leading that way, this was the closest we'd come to flat-out saying that we were going to keep having sex.

I took a step back and rubbed the back of my head whilst looking at the floor. "So, um, how? Or, uh, I mean, like... when do we practice? Or... "I stammered.

She put her hand over her mouth and giggled at my nervousness but somehow was able to translate and understand my gibberish.

"How about this... we take things slow, and we do what feels natural as it comes?"

I nodded and took a deep breath. My heart was racing again, and I was starting to get another hard-on.

She put a hand on my cheek, "There's no need to rush things. We take it one step at a time, while still being careful and picking our moments wisely, right?"

I nodded anxiously, "R-right."

She smiled before leaning down to meet my height and kiss me on the cheek, "I love you, honey."

Before her face left mine, I kissed her back, albeit her neck more than her cheek. It came off more passionate and aggressive than I realized, so the true emotion behind it was more than clear to my mother. When our eyes met again, hers were half-lidded with a fire in them I'd only seen once before; the one I saw only a few nights earlier. She also wore a devious smile that was just as telling.

I don't know what my face was doing, but based on her reaction, it was probably pretty clear that I wanted to fuck her again.

It was blatantly obvious what we were both thinking, but the delicate nature of our conversation left us both in a vulnerable state where we mutually decided that now probably wasn't the best time.

"I... I'm tired, Bradley. I think I'm going to grab a shower then turn in," she explained, burying her true feelings.

I echoed her deception, trying not to seem too desperate, "Yeah, I think I'll go game for a bit and do the same. I'm tired too."

We said goodnight before we parted ways for the evening, our hearts and minds fulfilled, our bodies not so much. Mom showered in their bathroom, and I decided to take one in the downstairs bathroom. As I undressed, got the water running, and started brushing my teeth, I realized how different I felt after our conversation. Before our talk, I was an amalgamation of anxiety, fear, and regret. But now, all of those things had shrunk down until they were almost non-existent, and a new concoction was taking me over: one of excitement, hope, and lust. A LOT of lust. For the first time since it happened, I was actually able to reflect on that night without a negative lens clouding my judgment.

The thing I'd been fantasizing and drooling about for months had actually come to fruition. The woman who raised me, one of the most attractive, generous, amazing people on the planet, shared her perfect body with me. My own mother slept with me. And it was so. Fucking. Good. And on top of it all... it was only the beginning.

Truth be told, at that point, I was THIS close to turning the tap off, wrapping a towel around my waist, and going upstairs to shower with Mom instead. With how riled up I was feeling and knowing she was up there all naked and lathered up, it was just about too much to resist. But I wasn't that bold yet, and there was a reason we were deciding to wait. I still needed a release, though, and that's something that couldn't wait.

I stood in the shower with one hand on the wall for support and the other vigorously stroking my throbbing cock. The hot water enveloped me as I closed my eyes, imagining my wet hand as my mother's pussy. My hand no longer felt nearly as good after experiencing the real thing, but I was optimistic about the possibility of having to use it less going forward. That possibility made me harder and my stroking faster. Having not even realized it, I'd begun bucking my hips forward into my hand, visualizing Mom's round butt cheeks pushed firmly against my crotch. My libido was back and stronger than ever. I was ready.

It only took me a couple of minutes to cum. I sprayed all over the shower wall with one of the biggest loads I'd ever had. All of my pent-up stress and arousal over the past few days dripped down the white tiles. And yes, the hot water made it a pain in the ass to clean up, but the relief was definitely worth it.

Now, it's easy to put fear or common sense on the back burner when you're horned up, but it's that "post-nut clarity" that pulls you back to reality and brings how you truly feel up to the surface. Much to my surprise, even after giving the shower a fresh coat of paint, I felt completely fine. Sure, that base level of anxiety from keeping a secret was still present and it always would be, but the crippling fear I'd felt for the last three days was nowhere to be seen. For the first time in about a year, Mom and I were finally on the same page, and I couldn't have been more excited for what the future held.

Little did I know that said future wasn't so far away. You see, I didn't know this until a little bit later, but apparently, that same evening I was cranking it out in the shower, Mom was upstairs with two fingers buried inside of her, doing the exact same thing.", "pools_count": 1, "title": "Son of a She-Wolf #2", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/plain", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "2", "name": "Nudity", "description": "Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)", "rating_id": "1" }, { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "33" }