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Fuck Morality - Sona's Story Ch. 01

By: funkyjunkymunkey



** This is a work of fiction. It contains absolutely no truth – even the bits that sound plausible. The characters in this story are not based on any real persons, nor is the story based on any real events. It's a story people, enjoy it for it is. **

** This story is about incest between a mother and her son – both of whom are adults. If you don't like this subject matter, move along. **

** This story is a continuation, of sorts, of the 'Morally Ambivalent Mother' series. You're better off reading them as a back story. Or you can just read this and ignore all that. Up to you. Have fun!**



Hi, my name is Sona.

It feels a bit weird writing this. Like I'm writing a letter to someone except I don't know who that person is. I guess it's the internet.

I'm writing this after some encouragement from FunkyJunkyMunkey. That name is so stupid. I know him by his real name but seeing as he wants to keep that all a secret (for good reason I guess!), I'll just call him FJM.

Sona is in fact my real name. FJM insisted I use something else to protect my identity. Seeing as he'd already splashed it all over his own stories I didn't see the point. I don't care anyway. The internet's a big place. A big enough place to get lost amongst all the other names.

Also, I'm writing this story as much as for myself as for anyone else who wants to read it. It's a recollection of what happened between me and my son and I don't want to read other people's names in it. It's about something real. To us, in our lives. To put some other stupid names on it would be to denigrate the love and devotion we have for each other. What we have is real, and it deserves to be named as such.

I'm not really a writer. I've written erotic fiction before but it was really just a case of penning my own fantasies. I did put them up on a website long time ago and I don't think it was very popular. I'm not surprised. Fantasies are very personal, I guess. If you don't like what you're reading, well, it's regretful you wasted your time. I hope you find what you're looking for elsewhere.

FJM says he'll edit this before it goes on the Literotica site. He thinks he's a better writer than me but I don't think so. Maybe he'll edit that last sentence out. I know it's torturing his ego to hear it! If he manages to leave it in, there's hope for him yet. *wink* (Love you babes! You make me shine brighter than a neon sky!)

Anyways, you're here to read about the most intense life changing experience I've ever had and it took place over the course of the last week. It involves my son, Mobeen, and me finding something special in each other. Something that had been there for so long and been buried so deep neither of us knew it existed.

You see, you'll be shocked to know that just a week ago, on Sunday evening, my son and I made love to each other. It was warm and deep and passionate and thrilling and everything that love should be between two people. I know it's immoral. But FUCK MORALITY! (ha-ha that's the title of the story!).

What we have feels natural. For us. It's not supposed to be that way, I know. But it is. We seem to have an innate understanding of each others needs. Emotional and, yes, physical. I don't care how wrong that's supposed to be, it doesn't change that it feels so RIGHT for us.

Sunday evening (1 week ago) was just the first time. We spent the whole of last weeks in each other's arms. We discovered ourselves again, reaffirming our love as mother and son but in a different way now. It doesn't feel like the physicality has changed our relationship. I'm still his mum. He's still my son. He still asks when dinner might be ready and I still nag him to tidy his room. The sex has added to that. It's made it better, stronger and deeper.

We're together more, rather than doing our own separate things. We're much more playful and open and free. We understand each other better. There are less boundaries to keep us apart and more drivers to push us together.

We slept together in the same bed. Every night over the past week. Like lovers. We fucked often. I guess it's not surprising that we have the same sex drive, we're related of course! He seems to want it whenever I do. I want it whenever he does. We're perfectly matched – always available to each other.

He's gone back to Uni now but he has since called me every day to tell me that he loves me. Usually, before last week I mean, he'd have called maybe once or twice during the school semester, usually to ask for money. I'm not implying we had a bad relationship. I think ours was like anyone else's. Emotionally close but physically distant.

Ok, perhaps at this point I should give you a bit of a description of the two of us to help you visualise us as people. I'm adding this in because FJM insisted. I already know what I look like and I have a very good idea of how my soon looks! But for your sakes, here's an outline.

I'm a petite Indian woman, 38 years old. I like in the UK, born and raised. In the playground is where I spent most of my dayz (hahah, gotcha! But seriously...).

There is nothing traditionally Indian about me aside from the colour of my skin (tan brown). If you're fantasy revolves around a traditional dumpy Indian mother, I'm sorry to disappoint – that aint me, at all. I'm only 5'4" which is not too short for Indian women in general but quite short for the UK average. I have a slim, well kept toned figure which is nicely proportioned. I have small boobs, perfect for my figure but not to most men's tastes (guys like big tits right?). I think because their small, they've not begun to sag at all and are very pert and youthful. I didn't breast feed any of my babies so that's helped keep their shape. My small hard nipples still point up and out!

All of my kids were delivered by c-section so my little coochie hasn't suffered from the trauma of childbirth. Before you ask, there were medical reasons for the caesareans. I have a very small frame and doctors were worried that there may be complications if we went for the natural approach. I had the procedure done under their advice. Despite some very feint scarring, I can say I'm very happy I did. The side effects have been that I'm literally as tight as I've always remembered – not that it was something I thought about at the time of deciding! I've been playing with my little lady friend for a long time and all I can say is I'm very, very soft and snug. Even now, it's not easy for me to push a finger in, and I have slender fingers!

I look at other mother's bodies and I'm glad I've not had to suffer that. Petite women are also lucky in that we don't develop much pregnancy fat – at least I didn't. So even during my three pregnancies I was pretty lithe and sexy, albeit with a cute little bump.

I'm very vain and very into my looks. I love getting dressed up and like to think I have great fashion sense. Much of what I wear is considered avant-garde, many people would probably think a bit quirky. I wore pirate-fashion (yeah I know, sounds stupid) before all the stores were stocking it to the rafters.

I look stunning (see the vanity coming through?). No really. I know it sounds egotistical but I know I look good. I get guys checking me out all the time and I love teasing them a bit. Sometimes I get dress provocatively just to get the leery looks from the men and the scornful looks from the women. If you see me at a wedding or other social function – I'm the gorgeous one wearing the regal saree with the backless blouse and no bra. I love getting looks and I play up to it.

I'm very confident in a social setting. I'm usually the centre of attention, if not for my appearance then for my attitude. I'm not loud and rowdy but I AM opinionated. Sometimes I say things just to get a reaction. I love it. I like being a little controversial and standing out. I have a quirky outlook on life and people like that. If I would describe myself, I would say 'arty' but not 'airy fairy'. Clear?

It's mostly a show though because inside I suffer from low self confidence. People never believe me when I tell them. FJM is the only one who spotted it in me before I ever told him. In fact, he came up to me and asked why I put on a fake persona for people. That's what intrigued me about him in the first place. Like he could see right through my charade. 

He tells me to be who I am, fuck what people think. I don't have to be liked. I don't have to worry about feeling accepted or not. No one has ever spoken to me like that and that's why he's my only real friend. He knows me like nobody else. It helps that we're very similar. I guess that's why he understands me so well.

I'm not stupid. I know FJM has a crush on me. He knows I have a crush on him. We have a LOT of chemistry. If I had the guts to have one, he'd be my sex-buddy. We'd be great too, we're both the sort of people that enjoy pleasing others. It would be like a perfect storm of pleasure! Ha-ha!

But sadly for him (and me, I guess), he's not. The closest we've ever been is a few times I've let him lick my fingers clean after I fingered myself (we do nasty things like that from time to time). I once let him cum in my mouth – I was curious about what cum tastes like. Aside from me sucking the last of his cum from his cock that one time, we've never been any more physical than that. 

We fool around from time to time. We smacks my bum. I grab his crotch. But not much more than that. We tease each other a little. Like in the cinema, a few times I'd stroked his cock from outside his trousers – I like getting him all hot and bothered. He's played with my boobs a bit here and there. It's nice, and fun, and I feel safe with him. I've read his stories and nothing about them surprise me.

We watch porn a lot together. Almost every time he comes round to see me, which isn't that often really. We masturbate together and it's not weird or anything. We're not shy like that. I've seen his cock many times. He's seen my pussy loads. Quite a few times, I've masturbated just for him. He just watching me play with myself. I get really hot doing that for him. Cos I know how hot he's getting.

I know he wants more. I want more. If he didn't know it before then I guess he knows it now that it's written in black and white. I've had many fantasies about fucking him. He's a very good looking guy himself, strong features, tall and very handsome. He has this smile that makes girls ovulate! He gets girls chasing him all the time. I'm not surprised his wife gets so suspicious and paranoid. Imagine having to put up with horny young teenage girls coming up to your hubby in front of you and telling him how fit he looks. It's enough to drive any woman mad!

He's a loving husband and father which is why I'd never do anything with him (discounting the silly little things we do now and then!). I know he's devoted to his wife – despite how it might sound in his stories. He's never cheated on her and I don't want him to change that. I don't count what we do together as cheating, that might be selfish and conniving of me but it's just the way I feel. Obviously I know it's not right, otherwise there'd be no reason to keep our relationship secret from his wife. What he and I have is special and I don't feel it takes away anything from his real life. Maybe I'm just trying to justify what we have. I don't know.

We share something together that neither of us can find in anyone else. He's wife would never accept some of this things he fantasises about. On the other hand, I just love it! We're both just as twisted as each other and I absolutely love how naughty and perverted some of his fantasies are. We try and out-pervert each other all the time with more and more nasty things to talk about – it gets both of us really hot. Nothing is censored!

He can't have that with his wife which is why I think its safe enough to have it with me. He can express that part of himself with me safely without fear of me judging him. If I wasn't around, I can only imagine how suffocating it would feel for him, not being able to share your thoughts and fantasies without worry of being shut down and called a weirdo. That used to be me before I met him!

FJM – I love you baby! Don't you ever forget that! You can lick my fingers clean anytime!!! Hehehe

Anyways, that's enough about FJM. (FJM, if you want to take out the bit above, please feel free. It's mainly for you, my darling).

You're here to hear about me and Mobeen and somehow I got side tracked. I'll carry on with my description of me like I promised.

Well, as I mentioned, I'm slim, petite, and very pretty. I have long straight hair which I either bleach or get coloured various shades of auburn and chestnut. For you guys, that means I have dyed brown hair! My natural colour is black.

I live in a very stuffy Asian (read South Asian, i.e. Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi) community in east London. Upton Park, for any of you readers who are familiar with the place. Around here, literally any deviation from some ridiculously quaint idea of what Indian women should look like makes you an automatic pariah.

The same rules don't apply for young girls. Aged 14 to 26 and you can pretty much dress and look how you like (within reason of course). But any time after that you gotta start looking more and more conservative and dowdy. If you got kids, well you best be wearing a sack because God forbid anyone should see you as a woman.

It's not a religious thing as such – I mean we have all sorts of beliefs in our area. It's definitely a cultural thing. It's not even guys who pressure women. Westerners make the mistake that it's the men folk who pressure women into covering themselves up and dressing like old biddies. That's just not true. Asian/Indian guys, like all guys, want to see women dressed sexy. They'd love us to wear more modern outfits that show off our boobs and bums.

It's the women who pressure each other. It's weird, they compete over who can out-conservative the other.

I have three kids so I definitely get weird judgemental stares for the way I look and behave. In other areas it's not so bad. Mainly because I look like I'm in my twenties so people just ignore it. But around here, people know me. EVEREYONE knows me. I'm that 'whore that lives on x street'.

I'm not a whore. FJM has mentioned that I've only been with 3 guys in my life. My ex husband for over 10 years. Then a boyfriend for 6 months and then a really stupid one night stand. I say stupid because I don't even know why I did it. I didn't want to. My girlfriends just kept egging me on. It was horrible. I'm not saying the guy pressured me or anything. I willing went home with him. It's just that deep down, I just didn't want to do it and for that reason it was a complete disaster.

Unfortunately, rumours start somewhere and once they do, they take on a life of their own. I don't care about it that much. I guess when you realise you can't defeat the beast; your own way to keep your sanity is to accept it for what it is. In time, hope to ignore it till it diminishes completely from your psyche. That's the stage I'm at. I don't care what people think or say when they point at me discreetly and say hushed things to each other. I just don't give a fuck any more. 

I'll wear my tight jeans thank you, I like that my bum looks shapely in them. Oh, my mid-riff is exposed in this top? Well have a good look at my sexy naval jewellery then. Yes, you're husband can't keep he's eyes off it. Yes, I know that you can see the tops of my bra in this blouse, I intentionally left the first few buttons undone. Yes, you did just glimpse the top of my thong when I bent over and I know that what you want to more than anything, if you could put your fucking judgemental shit aside, is to bury your nose in them and smell the hot pussy you're never going to get!

Phew, sorry about that! I am who I am and I like me so fuck everyone else. Haha!

OK, so aside from the fact that I'm a hot piece of ass *wink* I'm not sure what else to say to describe myself. I take care of my appearance and I do lots of exercises to stay in shape. I'm very flexible because of the yoga and Pilates classes that I go to and I'm very fit overall. I can cross my ankles behind my head and if I curl tight enough into a ball and stick my tongue out far enough, I can almost tickly my clit ;) 

As you've probably guessed, I have a very high sex drive. Frustrating for a person who never gets to have sex! My outlet is porn. Lots of porn. I live home alone so I get to watch a lot of it and masturbate frequently. Every night, in the morning, during the day, whenever I'm bored.

I have a small selection of toys which I play with often and selection of butt plugs which I never use (FJM had been a little hopeful last Christmas!). I've even got a little buzzing clitoral toy that makes absolutely no noise and can be worn even when you've got on the tightest of tight jeans. Nice to wear when you go out as long as you wear a sanitary pad (I didn't the first time and had a very embarrassing wet patch!) and are able to find the occasional quiet spot to hold onto something strong and scream quietly under your breath!

I don't work either so I literally do nothing apart from porn, online gaming, downloaded movies, chat and facebook all day.

FJM mentioned that I made my own porn for a bit. I'd say I 'dabbled' really. I took a few pictures and showed them to him. He then said he'd help (as if he'd have it any other way!) and he took a number of pretty good pictures of me in loads of different poses. Different outfits and different places around the house. Most of the pictures are pretty soft – just poses and such but a few are quite graphic and raw. Some of them are close ups of my pussy and bum. I'm opening my pussy up in a couple and fingering myself. One of them I've got a finger in my bum but it's not all that clear. You might even have seen a few of them online if you're into pictures of naked Indian women. They'll stand out from all the others; I'm the one who's actually quite stunning and not flabby and hairy! Also you'll recognise me because I have a tattoo just below my waistline and near my crotch that says 'free spirit'. Look out for it!

I get very turned on by myself. I'm not sure if other people are like that. I get turned on from the idea that I'm turned on. Weird, no? I imagine I'm feeling a little hot and wahey, I get a buzzing in the pit of my tummy! It's also a visual thing as well. I masturbate in front of the mirror a lot. I like looking at my feminine figure, running my hands over my body. Holding my boobs, watching in the reflection how my hands squeeze and stroke my nipples. It looks incredibly erotic. 

I also like to spread my legs and just explore my pussy. Playing with the curly folds and spreading myself wide, so that I can see the pinkness of my opening. I finger myself and watch how juicy I get when I play with my clit.

I'm not really an anal person (at least not till Mobeen opened my horizons!) but, when I'm really turned on it does feel nice to massage my bumhole. I've seen lots of amateur clips where women are really abusing their arseholes, stretching them wide and sticking dildos up there. It doesn't really appeal to me, though I have experimented with a slippering finger a couple of times. It didn't really do it for me.

I'm very comfortable with my smell and taste. I absolutely love it. I think women are generally prudish about themselves and I can't understand why. My smell turns me on. I have a different smell when I'm turned on and that turns me on even more! Mad, no? I lick my fingers when I'm playing with myself. I love it. My taste drives me wild! I always lick my dildo clean after I use, it's like a tasty little reward for spending the time to play with my lady friend. It probably sounds gross to you but I love it! To me it's like a reminder of how excited I am, and how lovely it felt to satisfy myself. Ladies, people call it a honey pot for a reason!! MMmm!!


Fuck Morality - Sona's Story Ch. 01



So that's me. I hope that gives you a fairly good view of myself. I didn't expect to go into such detail but once you start writing, it all just flows, I guess. You're probably thinking I'm a bit whacky, and you'd be mostly right!

OK, now my son. Well he's a pretty impressive young man. He's 20 now and if you looked at him you've never believe something that big could come out of someone as small as me. He literally towers above me at 6'2" he's quite built, very well toned after having started weights a year ago. He held off from starting earlier because he thought it would stunt his height. It's a good job he did! I've met plenty of short, well-built Asian/Indian guys who just don't do it for me. For me, height is far sexier than build. I like to feel like I'm with a MAN, and height does that more for me than build.

Mobeen is also very smart. Academically gifted, in fact. He already speaks 6 different languages fluently (non of which are anything to do with his course!) and has scored top of his class in every exam so far in Uni. Back at school he used to get teased, called a boffin (nerd) and such. It didn't help that he actually looked quite geeky with thick lenses in his glasses. But in the last couple of years, he's transformed into a pretty magnificent hotty. He's lost the glasses and chooses to wear contacts now. He's slim and toned all over and seems to have grown a few inches in a late growth spurt. He's also found a neat trendy haircut that suits his face better.

He'd always been likable and popular. Even in school, though he was the nerdy one, other kids liked to hang out with him and he had a wide circle of friends. He even used to get invited to parties all the time. Now, together with his physical appearance, he's quite a charming and seductive package – and I can say that objectively.

I know that he's popular in Uni, looking at his facebook page makes me a bit jealous when I see all the girls who are asking for him all the time. So many unsubtle offers from so many girls; he was clearly having a whale of a time! I felt bad for his girlfriend Karen, quite a stunner herself. But she didn't seem to mind. She seemed to be quite playful about their antics online. Young people! So free and spirited!

My son definitely has my sex drive – as I mentioned earlier. He and Karen stayed at my house for a few days and they were at it like rabbits. She's a very loud young lady and her yelps and squeals could be heard all over the house. She was also full of a lot of praise for him, often very clearly shouting how much she loved his 'huge cock' in her pussy.

That's where everything started actually so it's very lucky I arrived at this point. You see. I never thought of Mobeen as anything other than my son. I mean, I cared for him and loved him – as best I could despite my emotional and mental state. I never had any other thoughts of him apart from the obvious maternal feelings a mother has for her kids.

It's only when Karen came on the scene that I began to think of him differently. I think Karen was majorly involved in his transformation, from geeky teen to stud-muffin, so I'm very thankful to her for that!

Despite what you might be expecting, when I saw him in this new light I didn't get any feelings, down there I mean. Strange that I should feel I have to clarify that, no? Like, usually a mother wouldn't have to state that she didn't get the hots for her son. But I guess my story is slightly different, you could say, heheh.

Anyway, I saw him as this really good looking guy and I felt proud of him. It felt like I'd accomplished something just by seeing him turn into this confident good looking and well adjusted young man. I did feel attracted to him. Not in any sordid way. Just in the way that I found his new confidence in himself attractive. I wanted to hang out with him more and took a lot more interest in his studies and student-life. He talked about that stuff with a lot more confidence and passion and I enjoyed being swept up by his enthusiasm. He was much more entertaining now and I simply enjoyed spending time with him. It didn't change what I felt for him as his mum.

As I said before, it was Karen that was the catalyst of change in our relationship, though not in any direct way. You see, while she was staying over I'd overhear them in his bedroom in the evenings. It's not like I tried to listen in – I kept trying to emphasise that to FJM all those weeks ago! It's just that, well, Karen, is so bloody loud you can't help but hear them.

I tried to block it out mentally but let's be honest, fucking noises aren't the kind of noises you can do that with. Not consciously anyway.

So there I would be, trying to do something, anything to muffle out their noise. I watched movies on my laptop with my head phones on and it worked for a while but I guess some part of my mind was still thinking about them.

I can't explain it, I don't know why, but that was just the case. I think it was a new experience for me. Having someone in my house, knowing that two people were having such fun together. Part of me felt a bit left out. It sounds absurd, I know. I mean, I know it's my son and his girlfriend. But there's something in a person, which feels a little off put when two people are experiencing something so intense and they're not a part of it.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to be a part of it as such. I didn't think of it in that way. I was very aware that it was my son and that there are boundaries. It's just that I felt like a bit of an outsider. And it wasn't nice feeling like that in my own home. It felt a bit lonely. And loneliness can be a pretty evocative feeling, especially when it drives someone to find illicit companionship.

And that's where things started going a little 'strange', shall we say. Because, rather than listen to my movies on my laptop with my ear phones on. I found myself pulling the ear buds off every now and then to listen in on them.

At first it was just to check whether they'd finally finished their relentless rutting. But then, and more often, I found I was just listening in. I admit I was a little titillated. I knew it was wrong and that I was probably breaching some trust but I couldn't help myself.

I'm not sure if I could say I got turned on. I wouldn't describe it as such exactly. It was more like when you catch your neighbours at it. The salaciousness and scandal of it. It was more of a voyeuristic thrill. That I could hear them and they didn't know. I felt sneaky more than anything. And it was that sneakiness that I think got me a little excited. Excited in the wrong way. Not that there's any 'right' way of listening in on someone else's private lovemaking..

You see, I stopped thinking in terms of my son and his girlfriend and just imagined it as two other people fucking. In my house. So close by. In such wild abandonment. I wasn't part of it physically, but in a strange way, I was there. I was listening to it and by defacto that MADE me a part of it. I was able to share in the thrill, albeit from a quiet unobservable distance.

I got hot from it. At first I couldn't even understand why but I did. I have too high a sex drive to question it too much. So before realising it, while pressing my ear to the wall (yes, I really did begin listening on them!) I found myself squeezing my thighs together a little, feeling those early tingly feeling down there.

I didn't think about whether it was right or wrong. Once your mind is in that other place, your judgement is impaired. My judgement on most things is broken anyway!

So a little squeeze of my pelvic floor muscles, soon became just a light brush with my fingers over my panties, to a little tickle, to a gentle stroke, to a light massage to a heavy petting and so on.

Three nights into Karen's stay with us and I was shamelessly fingering away at my coochie as I listened into the two lovebirds. I say that, except I didn't actually feel ASHAMED. Don't ask me why, I just didn't. It's only later when I spoke to FJM where he insisted on dissecting my thoughts and emotions that I really wondered, and worried about why I didn't feel embarrassed about doing that.

The thing is, that's not how things changed between Mobeen and I. Listening in on his lovemaking wasn't what lead to he and I to rediscover each other. I could masturbate to their sexy noises and passionate gasps and moans without even thinking about the fact that it was my son in the next room. It was something else entirely.

You see, Mobeen and I have always had a very open and trusting relationship. I say that to everyone. My kids treat me like a friend rather than a mum. I prefer it that way. Some say because it saves me of the responsibility of actually being a parent. I say, fuck them (including YOU FJM! Yes, FUCK YOU!!). They're my kids and I know better about their welfare than anyone else. I love my kids and I love how they're able to come to me for anything. They know I'm not accepting of everything, but they also know I won't tell them off for asking or speaking to me about it.

So it's in this context that Mobeen one day asks me about a threesome. Over the phone, just casually. Not even a stutter of nerves in his voice as he asks if I'd be interested in joining him and Karen for a threesome. Apparently they'd enjoyed it so much when they were over during the holidays, especially when we went out clubbing. They thought it would be fun. Karen thought it was be really hot.

He asked me very innocently, like he was asking whether I'd be interested in watching a film on a Saturday night. If that doesn't surprise you, then I guess you'll be even more surprised when I didn't even think of it as any big deal. I just said, 'no' because it might be inappropriate.

That's the kind of relationship we had. He was open enough to come to me with something as incredible (well, I say incredible but I just didn't see it like that) as that and I didn't batter an eye lid.

I didn't even think of it as weird. You'll notice that I just said 'no' because I thought it might be inappropriate. I didn't even think about right and wrong and the moral bullshit that FJM gave me a hard time about when I told him!

I don't know why I didn't see it like that. I still don't see it like that. It's not for not understanding what a threesome is. I've seen lots of threesomes in pornos. I know exactly what it is and exactly what he meant when my son asked me to join them. For a moment I got a little bit excited at what a kinky and sexy experience it would be. 

I've never done anything like that that and I considered, if only briefly, what it would be like. I didn't really think in terms of 'this is my son and I'm his mum and this is sick and this is wrong'. I can't explain why I don't see the world like that. 

Believe it or not, when I said 'no' it was mostly because I was worried it might damage their relationship! I figured, young lovers were often trying new experiences without really understanding how it might effect them long term. I actually felt a bit privileged and pleased that they'd ask me to do this with them, like I could guide the young lovers through it. Not that I had any experience of it myself!

The whole incest thing didn't once cross my mind!

After asking me, Mobeen just went on to the next topic like normal, talking about some other aspect of what's been happening with him at Uni. There was no awkwardness. No feeling that he'd been shot down. No feeling that our relationship had changed in some profound way. Just normal.

I had absolutely no idea it was anything as monumental as it was until I told FJM about it. And even then, laughably, it was because I was trying to prove that my parenting was fine because my relationship with my son was open, objective and trusting. Hence he could even come to me with a request like that. I still think that it validates my parenting so fuck you FJM if you think differently!

It's funny that a throwaway argument between me and FJM could end up where it did though. You see, he and I had argued about my parenting many times. Many, many times. It just so happens that on this occasion I mentioned that conversation with Mobeen. I probably would have mentioned it in some other context anyway. It's just one of those things.

Anyway, once in FJM's hands, it had be dissected, categorised, understood, observed, tested, interrogated to the nth degree. Like I said, to me it didn't mean anything significant. But to him, well, it meant all sorts of seedy unhealthy feelings being harboured by two sexually repressed individuals for each other. The notion of incest didn't occur till he mentioned it.

I can't explain why I didn't see a threesome with Mobeen and Karen in terms of incest. Maybe the presence of a third person changes the whole mother/son dynamic. It changes the whole context - in my mind at least. I don't know. 

Maybe if Mobeen had just come to me and straight-up asked for sex it would be a whole other story. Maybe that would have horrified and sickened me like I'm told it should have. But what can I say, that's just not how I saw it. 

FYI, incest with my son, still does not horrify or sicken me as you can probably tell. I have absolutely no moral issues with it, far from it; I feel it's my duty to accept his love in whichever way he wishes to express it for me. In return I feel honoured that he accepts my love in return. Any attempt to paint something so beautiful as something so dirty is clearly morally corrupt in and of itself.

Maybe something is only ugly because the words with which we use to describe it are poorly constructed and ill-conceived? Perhaps it is the words that should be changed and not the beauty we seek to articulate. Hmmnnn. Philosophical, no? FJM taught me that!

Anyways, back to my story. I was simply not seeing the issue when FJM talked me through it. In honesty, FJM didn't see it as an issue either. He understands morality better than me but the difference between us is that he's in defiance of it. I'm merely ignorant towards it. You judge who is the most delinquent ;)

So it turns out, through talking it through with FJM that my baby boy might have a bit of a sexy interest in me. And that I might in turn have a sexy interest in him.

It wasn't shocking at all to me. A bit surprising hearing it being articulated like that but I wouldn't say I was shocked. Intrigued and curious is more like it. A little bit titillated. I can't help it. My mind thinks about sex so often it enters into the frame at any given opportunity.

I explained to FJM that I'd had a few fantasies about it – just imaging what a threesome would be like and well, all hell broke loose then! You see, I wasn't thinking about it as a mother-son taboo breaking thing at all. That's just not the bit the I found thrilling, at the time. I do now, incredibly so! But not then. 

When I fantasised about it, it was more in terms of how kinky it would be in a little group. Touching and kissing and fondling. Three bodies close together, enveloping and mingling into each other, slowly becoming one. The contrast of two hot bodies against mine, one masculine and rough, the other gentle and delicate. The intoxicating mixing of pheromones, feeling the angry heat of a man and the delicious sweetness of a woman. I found THAT bit erotic. I've seen loads of threesomes in porn, it's HOT. Foursomes – HOT. Anysomes – HOT. You see, I've never actually experienced anything like that and I imagined and fantasised what it might be like.

Truth be told, I was more interested in Karen than Mobeen. I've never been with a woman before and I was curious about what it might be like. I wouldn't say I'm all that into lesbian porn but I'm definitely a bit curious. It doesn't turn me off, not at all. It's so hot when it's done right. When it's sensual, and soft, and playful and delicate. I've heard many times how women are much gentler lovers and oral sex is mind-blowing. I've imagined what it might be like to taste a woman, smell her, pleasure her and have her do the same to me.

I've been approached by women many times in a club. Woman of all sorts. I'm not turned off by it, though I am a little unsure of it. You see, I'm actually looking for a guy. But sometimes it's nice being in anther woman's company. Dancing with a woman is fun in a different way to dancing with a man. It's more playful and things happen easier without people getting too hung up about what it means. I can slow dance with a girlfriend and we can rub up against each other, even squeezing each other's bums and it's all just being playful. 

One of my girlfriends actually calls it the pussy-rub dance where we press our hips together and grind against each other. And it's not just girly playfulness, we're literally enjoying how nice it feels down there, rubbing against each other like that. We joke about how our pussies are in love with each other! 

I've kissed a woman only once. In a club. She was cute and she just came out and said she was hot for me. I didn't really know what to do. She kissed me and I didn't pull away. It felt quite nice and we just kept kissing. We went to a dark corner of the club and we just fooled around a bit, kissing and touching each other. She tried to touch me under my panties but I pulled away then. I don't know why, I actually wanted her to but it suddenly just felt weird. And nothing more happened after that. She asked me if I wanted to go back to her place I just chickened out!

So, there you have it. Believe it or not, in my mind, I was hotter for Karen. Not my son. Though he was of course present and participating.

It's only when FJM and I sat down round his place that one time that it all changed. I don't know if he was leading me on with his questions of whether he was just exploring something that was always there but I hadn't realised. It was with FJM that I really started thinking about Mobeen in that way. And I got hot! So hot! I realise now that it was the taboo aspect of it but I just didn't see that at the time.

FJM and I shared a mutual fantasy that day. It was mostly me telling it but he was prompted and adding his bit every now and then. I explored my feelings about Mobeen much more that time and it got me more turned on than I'd ever realised it would.

This time, Karen didn't actually feature so much. It was much more about the interaction between me and Mobeen. How I felt about him watching me. Playing up to him. Wanting to impress him and please him. Wanting to tease and tantalise him. Wanting to pleasure him and ultimately have him pleasure me.

It was mind blowing, one of the best fantasies I'd ever had! I found I could talk about it easily, and be really naughty. Imagining Mobeen, tall and muscular, me small and petite. Being taken by him so thoroughly, his massive frame, enveloping me as I accommodated his huge girth in my warm wet pocket.

I felt stupid for having thought about Karen so much and ignored this bombshell of forbidden eroticism. My son, Mobeen, fucking me, his mother. It's fantastically mind-blowing!

I imagined him taking me with powerful strokes, angry for having denied him my coochie for so long. He, having lusted me for years and me inadvertently getting him hot with my playful ways, not knowing that lurking in his pants was the massive cock that he would conquer my tight little cunt with. In my fantasy I begged him. Pleaded with him. I wanted him to take me, all of me. Take me deep and hard. Satisfy himself with my body. Satiate his hunger. Punish me for chasing other guys when my true master was sitting out home fantasising about me whilst brandishing his lethal weapon.

I imagined him, ploughing me, stretching me, opening me up with his big cock. Showing me what a real man feels like, how a real man fucks a woman. I imagined shamelessly offering up my pussy to him, gagging for him to take me repeatedly, forcing me to take his entire length and girth.




Fuck Morality - Sona's Story Ch. 01



God it was so hot. I'm soaking now as I try and remember it! It was just as hot back then. FJM can attest to that! He's description wasn't nearly as erotic as it really was (good job though FJM!). I'd pulled my jeans down to my knees and was frigging away at my honey pot throughout. It was so erotic!

I came at the point that I imagined Mobeen, my son, cumming in me. That thought just blew my mind and pushed me right over the edge. I remember mashing my clit as I imagined his fat cock, pushing up against my cervix spewing his creamy sperm deep into my tortured little pussy. Torrents of hot virile seed, surging though his manly cock and flooding my insides. My hot boy, unloading a cupful of delicious cum into his mummy, growling in my ear how much he loved me and how my pussy was his from now on. Mmmmmm. It just blew my fragile mind!

I think it was clear to FJM that we were dealing with something a little more complex than love and trust between me and Mobeen. I didn't know what to make of it. It made me hot of course, incredibly hot and I relived that fantasy over and over again for the next few weeks.

I was comfortable about fantasising about Mobeen after that. Even though he was my son, he was a fine partner in my imagination. Perhaps, the fact he was my son made it all the more intense and erotic. There was no need to add Karen any more. It was hot enough just for there to be me and my him. Each one of my fantasies resulted in huge earth shattering orgasms for me. I think I even called his name out in a few of them. Lucky I live alone!

I didn't get to talk much to FJM in between that and what happened next. I'd have liked to. I really wanted to. That fantasy we had round his house was so awesome I wanted to do that again and again. FJM has a way of leading the story on, making it more real, and intense.

But anyways, the next time I called FJM it was after something wonderful happened. I was expecting it anyways, but still. When it happened, it elated me and sent my spirits soaring high into the heavens, higher than I'd ever dreamed my hopes would fly. Mobeen had called me and was coming home for the mid-term week-long holiday.

As happy I was about Mobeen being here, I needed advice, badly. I didn't want to jeopardise anything with my son by saying or doing something stupid. As much as FJM had entertained the idea that Mobeen had the hots for me, I still wasn't sure about it. I was very aware that the fantasy was still very one sided and I didn't, in honesty, know what Mobeen wanted.

For that, I needed FunkeyJunkyMunkey.

** to be continued **



Fuck Morality - Sona's Story Ch. 02



** This is a work of fiction. It contains absolutely no truth -- even the bits that sound plausible. The characters in this story are not based on any real persons, nor is the story based on any real events. It's a story people, enjoy it for it is. **

** This story is about incest between a mother and her son -- both of whom are adults. If you don't like this subject matter, move along. **

** This story is a continuation, of sorts, of the 'Morally Ambivalent Mother' series. You're better off reading them as a back story. Or you can just read this and ignore all that. Up to you. Have fun!** 

*

The phone rang and rang and for a moment it seemed like there'd be no answer. Annoyingly, when he did finally pick up FJM claimed he was busy - till I mentioned 'Mobeen', that is. Suddenly he was perky and right away he was breathlessly promising he'd call me back -- saying that he had something to sort out quickly and he'd call me back soon. That was just like him -- bored and disengaged unless the topic was about sex. The pervert would drop anything to get in on the action.

True to his word, moments later he called me back.

"Right, so Mr Loverman is coming home, is he?" FJM asked. Even through the background noise of the mobile networks, I sensed he's sarcastic grin.

"Look, I can do without your jokes, ok. Yes, Mobeen is coming. And I'm freaking out!" I replied.

"What're you getting stressed about? He's coming home for mid-terms right? Surely you've known this for some time?"

"Course I've KNOWN he's coming home -- he comes home for EVERY holiday. But this time it's different."

"Different? how?"

"Look, please, don't play stupid. I'm panicking here. I can do without your dumb jokes for now. You KNOW how it's different." I was beginning to get frustrated with FJM.

"Ok, ok. Look, I really don't understand what you're stressing about. So he's coming on holidays, what's the problem? Just do what you guys always do. Chat. Catch up. Argue. Then he leaves again in a great big huff."

"You think I can pretend to be normal around him? After everything I've told you?"

"I don't get how that makes a difference. That's just fantasy. You know the difference between fantasy and reality?"

"It's not that easy. Obviously I understand that but it's just not that easy. What if... what if I say something stupid. Or... or what if I DO something stupid?" "Like what, exactly?"

I couldn't blame FJM for being confused -- I was having a hard time myself forming cogent thoughts from the confusing mush in my head.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just a little anxious about the whole thing." I replied.

"Chill out, woman. If you're stressed then you probably WILL say or do something stupid. Come on, think about it. It's not like you're gonna fall over onto his cock are you?" FJM chortled.

"That's not funny."

"Look, you know what I mean. Just stop panicking. It'll all be alright. In a weeks time he'll have gone back to Uni and nothing will have changed. You'll still be the mummy and he'll still be your son. And you'll still have that dysfunctional rollercoaster of a relationship you've always had -- adoring each other one minute and hating each other the next."

"But....What if I don't want to continue living like that?"

"I don't get you."

"What if I want things to be different? I don't want to fight him anymore. I hate it when we argue."

There was a long pause on the line before I began to wonder whether FJM was still there. It was when he coughed to clear his throat did I realise the line was still open.

"I think...." He replied. "...this is about a bit more than having fewer arguments with Mobeen. I think there's more to it than that. I think you want more and I think you know what I mean by that, too."

"Probably." I replied sorrowfully.

"You know, I won't judge you for the choices you've made. I know you love your son. I know you love him in a way most women would consider unthinkable. But I also know there's nothing you would ever do to hurt him. I think you should consider your own feelings as well. I think what you want with Mobeen, as in all the thoughts and feelings you've experienced, I think they're just an expression of your love for him. And I think that's ok. I think for you to feel that way is ok. As long as no one's being hurt, it's fine. You're both adults."

"I don't know.... Like you say, there's a difference between fantasy and reality. In my fantasy it's all passion and love and sex but in reality... well, like you say, reality's always different."

"Perhaps. But everything you've told me so far makes me think you're naughty little fantasies don't have to be that far from the reality. I think the two things are separated from one another by just one accidental touch, or one cheeky glance or one drunken night of irresponsibility. That's all there is separating you two. If you can just get past that, you really can have a different relationship. A VERY different relationship with your son. The question is, is that what you want? Or do you want to keep your fantasies as they are?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. This is all so confusing."

"I tell you what. Let's keep it simple. Forget about the BIG questions. For now, just welcome Mobeen back home with a little treat. See where it goes from there."

"How do you mean?"

"You know. Get a little dressed up. Normally you make no effort for him. Why not dress up a little, make yourself presentable. Give him something nice to look at when he gets back."

It sounded like a great idea from FJM.

"Yeah, I can do that. You mean like put on a little make up, wear something pretty. That sort of thing?"

"Yeah. But put a bit of effort into it. Go and get your hair done. And a facial. You know, the usual beauty treatments you women do. And dress up in something that'll really impress him. Something to make his eyes pop out and say -- WOW -- when he sees you. Something to make him think of you as something other than just 'Mum'. Get him to realise you're a woman too. A sensual, sexual being. Let him see a new side to you, a different side to you. One that surprises him. Maybe even excites and titillates a little."

I chuckled at the idea. Getting dressed up always sounds fun but I wasn't quite sure what FJM meant about exciting and titillating my son.

"Yeah that sounds good, actually. I bought some nice outfits the other day. I could wear one of those. Get scrubbed up. I think he'll like that."

"Don't just wear something because it looks 'nice'. You want to aim for more that just 'NICE'"

"You mean, like, something proper dressy? Like 'going out' clothes?"

"Erm, sort of. You want to be dressed to impress. So that means SEXY. You know, low cut tops, skirts, heels."

"What, dressed like a slut you mean?" I replied derisively.

"No, not like a slut. Sexy. SEXY. You know what I mean, you know more about women's clothes. Use your imagination."

I thought for a moment just what FJM could mean by 'dressing sexy', bearing in mind we were talking about getting dressed up and presenting myself to my own son and the obvious boundaries that exist.

"I guess...I could wear a skirt. I don't think he's seen me in skirts much -- or at least I don't really wear skirts around him." I replied, wondering if I was thinking along the same lines as FJM.

"Yeah.. a skirt. But make it a short skirt though yeah. Lots of leg."

"Well, yeah. A short skirt but within reason, y'know."

"Yeah,. yeah. Of course. And a top. Maybe something off the shoulders?"

"I was thinking something low cut. I mean not too low cut but something that shows off a bit more skin?"

"You could but I think something off the shoulder looks more sexy. They look like they could fall off any minute, you know? That's more sexy I think. Like you could get a nipple slip any moment."

"You're such a strange person FJM" I chortled. "But I think I know what you mean. I have this gold coloured woollen top. It's off the shoulders and it actually does feel like it could fall off any minute -- that's partly why I never wear it."

"Well now's your chance to wear it."

"Problem is bra straps show on that one which spoils the effect a little."

"Well don't wear a bra then."

"Are you serious?" I baulked at the audaciousness of his idea.

"Why not?"

"Why not?!? Well firstly because it's uncomfortable to go without any support and secondly, if the top DOES slip a little the most my son will see is perhaps some frilly underwear rather than his mother's boobs!"

"OK, OK. It's up to you. But like you say, the straps spoil the effect. And I think going braless looks much more sexy. A guy can tell when a woman's not wearing a bra and trust me, it's sexy when you realise it. Especially when she's dressed real hot. Knowing that he boobs aren't confined away is really hot, it would blow Mobeen's mind when he realises."

"Really? You think so?" I had to admit, my interest had been piqued a little.

"Of course he will. He wont be able to take he's eyes off your chest. Especially if you little nipples decide to get a little excited and show through the fabric. He'll be adjusting he's erection all afternoon!"

"Oh my God, you're unbelievable!" I chuckled. "You really think that would happen?"

"Trust me. Wear that top. Go braless. And give your baby boy a little performance this afternoon. A little wiggle here, a little jiggle there. He's gonna love watching mummy's boobies bounce and wobble all over the place!"

"You are something else!!" I baulked even as I found myself slowly succumbing to this twisted idea.

"And who knows, maybe if he's lucky, mummy's top might creep down a little. By accident or on purpose. Who knows?"

"I don't think so, sweet heart. If Mobeen's seeing my boobs today it'll be by accident. There's no way I'd have the guts to do it on purpose!"

"I don't mean lifting your top and flashing him, you silly cow. I meant, you know, adjusting your top so that if you sat a certain way there's a good chance it would slip down. There's no guarantee, of course. You can make it into a game. If your top stays put, you win. If your top slips, he wins! HAhaha"

"I'm glad this is a great big joke to you, mister!"

"Hahah. OK, I'm sorry. But you know what I mean. It'll be fun. And you gotta admit it's a bit sexy. And you like being sexy don't you?"

"OK, I'll admit, you're persuading me on going braless. I'm not 100% on it, though. Just saying that it does sound fun to be a bit naughty. And you're right, it'll blow he's mind!"

"And like I said, if he's lucky he'll get a peek at your sexy boobs. And if YOU'RE lucky, he might just decide to reach in and have a feel! And if you're really, REALLY, lucky...."

"Ok, ok. Now you're taking it a bit too far. I think I can just about see myself 'accidentally' giving my boy a peek at my boobs but letting him touch them is going too far. As much as I like to fantasise about it, I'm not sure I can see myself allowing that to happen in real life!"

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say." FJM replied dismissively.

"I mean it. This isn't a joke. This is real life. Mobeen and I are real people and this is a real relationship. I'm is mother. His MOTHER. Doing that stuff, taking it that far is a whole different ball game."

"OK, ok, I understand. I didn't mean to make light of it. Just wanted to see you through this week with a bit of advice. I don't want you or Mobeen to get hurt and I really don't want to ruin your relationship. Like I said, we're just talking about being a little bit naughty and playful. You're not committing to anything and you certainly don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. Ok? Happy?"

"OK." I replied curtly.

"So are we settled on the off-the-shoulder top and braless, then? Did I manage to sell the idea?"

"Not entirely. I think it's a bit kinky and a bit naughty so let's say I'm about 70% on the idea. Maybe 80% actually. Maybe even 90%" I chuckled.

"Haha, ok, let's say 90%" FJM smiled.

"Yeah ok" I said exasperated. "90% it is. So, what else?"

"Footwear?"

"That's easy. I have some leather boots I can wear."

"What sort of boots? Are they sexy?"

"Of course they are. They come up to my knees, pointed tips, 7 inch heels. These things are WELL sexy!"

"Hahah, ok, they sound it! Wear those. With the short skirt they'll look very sexy!"

"Yeah I think so." I smiled as I imagined myself clicking my heels as I descended the stairs, my handsome son at the door way watching my careful steps, licking his lips at the sight of how sexy I looked....

"So have you got an idea of which skirt you're going to wear?" FJM ask, waking me from my delightful reverie.

"Errm, not yet. I have tons of skirts." I replied.

"Do you have any really short ones?" He asked.

"Well yeah, a couple, I think. But, I can't exactly wear those. They're TOO short."

I tried to remember the contents of my wardrobe -- I didn't have many short skirts and the one I had in mind was easy to recall. "There's this tartan one. But that's wayyy too short."

"Describe it."

"Well it's tartan. Mainly red. Pleats. Has a silver chain around the waist which looks quite dainty... erm, what do you want to know?"

"How short is it?"

"Trust me, it's wayyy too short. It barely covers my bum."

"Good. That's the one you're going to wear."

"No way!!"

"Why not?"

"Are you not listening to me? It's TOOO SHORT! Every time I bend over I'll be showing off my backside!"

"That's good. Go without panties and you'll be all set."

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm not. Do it. Give Mobeen a proper show of mummy's tasty delights."

"Yeah sure. And maybe I can also plonk my ass on the arm rest, spread my legs for him and stick my fanny in his face?" I replied sardonically. "Look, be serious ok. There's absolutely no way I'm not going to be wearing any underwear so just get that thought out of your head. And in any case, I'm still not persuaded on the tartan skirt but if you want to sell it to me, then feel free."

FJM let out a long exasperated sigh. "Sweetheart, I'm not going to try to persuade you to do anything other that what I know you want to do. It's up to you what you want to wear. Just remember, without my advice, this week will end up just like any other week, i.e. ending with a great big argument and the two of you hating each other and worse, hating yourselves. Take my advice and there's a chance it can be different. There's a chance you can both end the week with great big smiles on your faces. Now, read into that what you will, but I think you know what I mean. And before you give me your crap about not wanting that kind of relationship with your son, just think about what relationship you already have and how much better it can be. How pleasurable it can be for both of you. How wonderful you can make him feel and how wonderful he can make you feel."

There was a long pause.

"Don't you want to make Mobeen happy?" He continued.

"Of course I do." I admitted quietly.

"Then, I don't believe there's any woman in this world that would be more devoted to satisfying Mobeen than you. You would do anything for him. Anything. Wouldn't you?"

It was a while before I responded, surprising myself with the level of honesty in my reply. "I would. I'd do anything for him."

"Of course you would. No one would be more dedicated to pleasing him. Hell, no one would be more dedicated to *pleasuring* him. I know you'd make yourself available for him whenever and wherever. And he's a young lad so I think you know he'll be making plenty of demands. I know nothing would make you more proud than to satisfy him. Imagine that. First thing in the morning, last thing at night, anytime he needed, you're there to take care of him. To pleasure him. Just imagine it, him coming home after a tough day to find you, welcoming him home with a great big smile on your face, looking fuckable wearing some sexy see-through lingerie, leading him in to the living room, setting him down on the sofa, kneeling on the floor in front of him, unzipping his fly, pulling out his cock and spending 15 minutes sucking him off, seeing the look of pride and adoration on his face as he watches you make love to his cock, smiling when he finally grunts and unloads into your mouth, drinking down every drop and thanking him afterwards, seeing the look of satisfaction on his face and knowing that you're the one that gets to make him that happy, knowing that the fun doesn't end there and by the time you've drifted off together in the same bed, he'll have fucked your brains out twice that evening."

"Stop. OK. Stop. Look, please..." I gasped, the heat growing in my pussy as FJM engaged me into his tantalising little fantasy. "Look, regardless of what I want, I have to accept that I might not get it so please, just stop it. Don't get my hopes up. I've had too much of that in my life."

"OK, sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I'm just saying, things CAN be different and it's up to you to make them different."

"I KNOW. I *understand* that. And I agree with you.. I... I just don't want to scare him away. I don't want to get hurt and I don't want to hurt him."

"You won't. You will if you come on too strong but just hold back a little. Be desirable and available. Get him interested. Let him make the move. Just give him the right incentive. Just make it clear that you're there if he wants you."

"Yeah that's all easy to say." I replied dismissively.

"Sure is, but I think it's also easier to do than you're making out. Like I said, start with the outfit you're going to wear. Have your womanly beauty treatment done. Get a complete wax, including your lady bits, and just let nature takes its course. He's you're son but he's also a red blooded male."

I couldn't help but laugh "Hold on, hold on. Wax my lady bits? Are you serious??"

"Course I am."

"I thought I explained I wasn't going to flash my pussy like that!"

"You're not. And it's not about 'flashing your pussy'. It's about being *prepared*. Being *at your best*. The complete package. Making sure there're no last minute hairy surprises if the unexpected happens. It's also about confidence. If you know you're immaculate, you'll WANT to show off a bit. Maybe not go as far as parading your bits in his face but it's about that feeling of knowing you're looking great. Knowing that if he did suddenly throw you onto the chair, and pin your legs behind your ears, he'll find a nice and smooth slippery treat to eat between your legs."

"Oh God, I so hate you!"

"What?"

"How do you do it? I'm actually thinking of getting myself waxed now! How do you manage to persuade me with your perverted mind?"

"Hey, one pervert knows another, right?"

"Whatever. Look, I gotta get on with things. I've gotta see if I can get an appointment at the beauticians for today. Mobeen's due here in a few hours so I best get ready."

"Good luck!"

"Thanks babes. Love you."

"Love you too. Make your son happy!"

"I will." I smiled as I hung up the phone.

I was so glad I'd spoken to FJM, I really needed to have that conversation. I felt a lot more relaxed and less stressed. I could actually feel excited again, now that I had some playful ideas in my head. I liked the idea of getting dressed up for Mobeen; it sounded fun and a bit naughty considering what I was planning to wear. 

I like to think of myself as a sexy and sensual person. I've been told I ooze sexuality. I like the sound of that. I'm happy to just be me and see where things go. See how he reacts to me being a little more playful than usual. It would probably blow his mind just to see me being a little flirty with him!

FJM has this nice piece of advice. 'Be prepared for the eventuality, but don't feel the need to push for it.' I liked the sound of that. Let things play out how they do. No pressure. If something happens, then it's ok, I'm ready for it. If it doesn't then that's fine too. 




Fuck Morality - Sona's Story Ch. 02



I can be persuaded to be anyone and do anything - as long as I feel comfortable all the way along. And that's what I wanted for myself and for Mobeen. Just to be comfortable with each other. It didn't matter if our relationship was the same as before, I wasn't pining to change anything. Whatever happens, I was happy enough to enjoy my naughty little secret fantasies, knowing that it wasn't going to hurt anyone and wasn't likely to cost me the relationship I already had with my son.

I felt comfortable with the idea of being a little naughty and just seeing where things went. Truth be told, I was quite hot on the idea of dressing sexy and definitely liked the idea of Mobeen stealing naughty glances at my body. 

The outfit I had in mind was a little more risqué than I would have picked.

I liked the idea of wearing sexy boots. I have a number of leather boots and they're all hot with their 7 inch pointy heels. A nightmare to walk in but they give me some extra height and I'd feel sexy with my ass pushed out all the time. I think boots are an easy way to catch a man's attention; they make a very bold statement about a woman's femininity and sexual confidence. I had a feeling Mobeen would definitely notice those!

The sweater sounded good too. I liked that it would show off my shoulders, definitely one of my sexier features and definitely an easy way to show off a bit of skin. The sweater I had in mind was short and would show off my toned abdomen as well. Maybe a little too risqué but it sounded hot none the less.

Daring to go bra-less sounded both scary and exciting at the same time. I could just imagine my nipples being delightfully teased all afternoon as they kept brushing against the woollen fabric. Just imagining sitting next my son, discreetly enjoying this cheeky little thrill, sounded hot. And I could pretend not to notice when my nipples showed through the fabric like taut studs - that would certainly pique my baby's interest!

I still had reservations about the skirt. It was so short I'd basically be flashing my panties all over the place. I knew I'd look hot in it, but it was just a little too much. The other things I could get away with. You have to remember, this was my son I was dressing up for. Having him see me in a sexy outfit was one thing. Wearing something rude and raunchy was quite different. I wanted to titillate, not shock!

And when FJM suggested I go without panties completely, I knew it was going too far. He obviously didn't understand just how 'mini' that mini skirt was. Or maybe he was just getting his own perverted thrills from imagining me flashing my coochie all over the place. That's the problem with getting advice from him -- he's so kinky it's easy to get carried away!

I was really excited now; I couldn't wait for my son to come home. There was no pressure but lots of opportunity to play and tease. I really liked the sound of that! Mobeen was going to arrive in 3 hours. That was enough time for me to hurry and get the place tidied up and get myself looking divine.

I called my local beauty salon and booked myself in for a complete leg waxing. Despite my earlier discussion with FJM, I figured I might as well get my coochie tidied up as well. It didn't cost anything extra and 'being prepared' (as FJM put it), couldn't hurt. If such an eventuality was to occur, I'd like to look my best down there.

*************************

By the time I'd left the salon, every square inch of my body was moisturised, perfumed and glowing. My eyes twinkled, my cheeks blushed and my lips pouted with feminine allure. I felt so hot knowing that my lovely little pussy had been pampered too. Whether Mobeen gets to see it or not, it felt good just knowing the little treat I had in store between my legs.

It was exactly the confidence boost I needed to wear the miniskirt I'd talked about with FJM. I'd persuaded myself that I may as well give myself a little treat, seeing as I'd gone through the effort of having my legs waxed. What point was there to making yourself look delectable if you weren't going to show off a little? I was now quite happy to show off as much leg as my baby boy wanted to see!

The skirt itself is a red, pleated tartan number with an accompanying sparkly chain. It's main 'feature' is that it just about covered my backside. There simply wasn't enough material for it to preserve my modesty and it made absolutely certain that, given a twirl here or a bending over there, I'd definitely be flashing some panty-clad ass this afternoon.

If I were to be completely honest, it was more of a sex outfit to be used by loving couples than an actual item of clothing. Having said that, I found myself feeling excited to be prancing around, showing off my smooth slinky legs and flashing my toned little bum a little. It made me feel giddy with anticipation of what Mobeen might think when he saw me like that.

That left me with a decision on what underwear would go with it. I settled on a pair of white hipster briefs which gave me good coverage without being too raunchy. Apart from the slightest hint of camel-toe, it could almost be described as respectable. Almost!

For a moment, I let my naughty thoughts wonder about wearing something sexier - a thong perhaps? Or some frilly see-through lingerie? or maybe even that crotch-less pair I'd received from a certain perverted male friend of mine. Hell, I might as well have gone without underwear at all -- like FJM had suggested. I had to admit the idea sounded more appealing now as I ran my fingers along my damp pussy lips. My cunt was clean and smooth, devoid of any hair and practically begging to be shown off to hungry lusty eyes.

Maybe I'd get to wear raunchy underwear for my baby boy some other time. And maybe then I'd get to watch him tear them off my body with his teeth before he devoured my waiting and willing pussy. MMMMMmm....

I awoke myself from my little playful fantasy, pulling my fingers away from my eager little snatch. Damn, I so wanted to just to grab one of my dildos and slam it right up into me. I'd scream out Mobeen's name while imagining him rutting me like a savage animal. Pinning me onto the bed as he ploughed my poor little pussy with his huge angry cock. Pounding me to the hilt till his hot cum gushed into me, filling me up with his virile man-spunk before whipping it out and sticking it in my face and ordering me to lick his magnificent cock clean. MMMmmmmm....

Phew! I had to concentrate. My perverted mind was distracting me. That's what happens - once I get a naughty thought in my mind I can't think straight anymore! I had to get a grip of myself and focus.

I exhaled loudly, trying to calm myself and checking in the mirror one last time. I twirled a few times, turning from left to right, inspecting the skirt as it flapped around carelessly. From behind it just about covered my ass. I couldn't imagine what Mobeen would think when he saw me link this; I could only hope he didn't run a mile straight out the door! Not that I thought he would. I was quite sure he's eyes would be bulging like any red blooded male and like every other guy I've known he'd be spending the whole afternoon checking me out -- which was fine by me! I planned to find as many reasons as I could to flap my skirt and bend over for no good reason in front of him!

I swallowed hard and committed my mind to going ahead with this. I took one last glance at my reflection, admiring the seductive sex kitten that smiled back at me. I left the room wondering whether on my return I'd have my son in toe, a smile on our faces and my hand wrapped firmly around his throbbing cock as I led him to my bed.

For now, all that there was for me to do was to head downstairs and sit and wait. If I was lucky I'd be able to survive without my mind wandering into sexy fantasy land and I wouldn't have to change my soaking panties. Again.

**************

Mobeen arrived with a loud crash as he fell through the front door, his bags of clothing tumbling in with him. It wasn't quite the entrance I'd imagined of my magnificent prince striding through the door to sweep up his mother and carry her away to make passionate love in his chamber. But either way, my heart was elated to have him home and for a moment, I was able to think about something other than how insanely horny I was.

I rushed out of the living room to find him scrambling to get to his feet, various bags of clothes strewn all over the floor with their contents spilling out.

He began apologising profusely as he scrambled to stuff his clothes back into his bags. It was only when I chuckled at the comical sight did he look up and gawp at me -- he's eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and fascination. I felt a flutter in my tummy as he eyed me up and down, drinking in the sight of his mother, scantily clad in this sexy outfit.

I'd be lying if I didn't feel a little shy about what I was wearing, but I had to admit, seeing the look on his face was absolutely worth it. I can't remember the last time I had a guy look at me like that, at least not one whose attention I was actually craving. It was that initial reaction, where your eye catches onto the opposite sex and it's a moment of pure carnal desire before your judgement kicks in. That's what I saw in my baby boy's eyes -- that moment of pure sexual hunger. I can't describe the knots of concealed delight I felt in the pit of my tummy as I felt that all too familiar throbbing down below.

There was an awkward moment as our eyes met and he looked away trying to recompose himself. A little of his youthful sheepishness peeked through, reminding me of the delightful little scamp that had always warmed my heart with his curiosity and cheekiness. I smiled quietly to myself, my baby boy had noticed me!

I went to hug him tight; pressing my lithe petite body against is tall masculine frame. He reached around to hold me but was unsure about where to place his hands, eventually setting them against the small of my back which was left bare. He pressed me tight against his broad chest, feeling the softness of my naked skin under his large manly hands. He's embrace was firm and reassuring as he pressed me close to him. He surprised me a little by the candid way in which he stroked and caressed me, for a moment it even felt like he's hand would drift south and grab my ass. But sadly he made no such motion, even though, for the briefest of moments, my heart fluttered at the prospect of feeling my first sexual embrace from my son.

His nose brushed lightly against the nape of my neck, as he inhaled deeply on my scent. It was the slightest of touches but it sent tiny shocks through my body making me tingle all over and tremble with anticipation. It was surprisingly sensual, unexpected and quite unlike any kind of physical contact we'd shared previously as mother and son.

"Wow, you smell nice mum. Is that a new perfume?" He tried to sound peppy but there was an obvious shakiness in his voice.

I pulled back and smiled warmly at him, his wide eyes staring down out me, making me feel small and delicate. "No, actually I'm not wearing any. It's just moisturiser... and me! You like it?"

"Err, yeh, it smells nice" He replied awkwardly, unsure of how to compliment his own mother.

"Don't sound too keen!" I chortled.

"What, mum? I said you smell nice, didn't I" He replied sheepishly, just the slightest hint of that annoying childish whine.

We both chuckled as I tussled his hair before turning away to head back into the living room, making sure to sway my hips ever so slightly.

"You should bottle that stuff, it would sell like hotcake!" He called behind me.

"Ha-ha, silly boy. Well I guess it's nice to know you like my natural body smell." I winked as I turned back to him, hoping he'd be watching me, drinking in the site of my alluring figure. I dared to twirl ever so slightly, just to get the skirt to flair out a little and flash him a little panty-clad ass, hoping that the same naughty thoughts in my mind were also playing in his.

Were we actually flirting, I wondered to myself? It felt like flirting. We've never talked like that before and there was definitely some sexual tension in the air. I hoped he was feeling it as I was. I felt a tantalizing shiver go through me as my tummy tightened and I felt a dull ache in the pit of my abdomen. I couldn't believe I'd been so blunt about him liking my natural body smell! I was being naughty and loving it!

Rather than returning to the living room, I carried on though to the kitchen calling back to ask whether he wanted a cup of tea.

When I returned, Mobeen was already lounging back in the big sofa; he's arms stretched out along the back and his legs out in front of him. He looked tired; the poor thing had had an exhausting journey back home from Uni and it showed.

I handed him is tea and kissed his forehead. It was just like old times, me welcoming him home as he reclined back, finally taking the weight off his feet after carrying back bags and bags of clothes to be washed.

He glanced around the living room and noticed immediately that it had changed.

"You've tidied up?"

"Yep, I thought I'd try and get the place ready. You always leave it a tip so I'm just making sure there're enough empty spaces for you to leave your rubbish." I wrinkled my nose at him and the two of us shared a little joke together.

I sat down next to him, on the edge and making sure to strike a ladylike pose while very aware that unlike any previous occasion, I was parading a lot of naked flesh in front of my son. I sipped on my tea and I glanced across at him casually. I caught him eyeing my smooth legs several times as I purposefully cross and uncrossed them in exaggerated motions.

I felt a giddy thrill knowing he was checking me out, stealing quick glances when he thought I wasn't looking. He thought he was being smooth but I could tell. I smiled to myself knowingly as I bounced one leg on the other, drawing attention to my knee high leather boots, twirling my foot in slow sensual circles.

It felt surreal to be behaving like this. Knowingly putting on a bit of a show for my own son, teasing him with a shameless display of sexual allure. I wondered what the poor thing was thinking, how confused he must be to see me like this.

"How was Uni, babe?" I asked, sweetly. Punctuating the growing tension in the air with an innocuous question.

"Oh it's good. Err, yeh. It's good. My dissertation is going well, I've had it reviewed by the lecturers and they reckon I should do well with it." He replied, clearing his throat and blushing as he's eyes shifted nervously between me and his cup of tea.

"You had you lecturers look at your dissertation? Is that allowed? Isn't that like cheating?" I asked, leaning towards him a little.

"How? That's what they're there for. I wanna make sure I get the maximum grade so why not pass it before the people who are gonna mark it and get their view? Makes sense, no?"

I peered at him suspiciously. "I don't know what's more audacious, having your dissertation complete so far ahead of the deadline or actually getting it 'pre-marked' before the actual marking!"

"Ha-ha, come on, you're just jealous you didn't think about doing that when you went to Uni. 'Tis genius, no?" He chuckled as he flashed me he's charismatic smile.

My heart fluttered and suddenly I felt like a giddy teenage girl, gushing nervously at her first crush.

"Don't be so cocky." I smiled. "Wait till you get your grades."

"Yeah, I'm just doing what I can to get the best possible."

"I know sweetheart, and I'm proud of you." I smiled at him and he nodded back curtly.

There was a comfortable silence in the room as the two of us sipped our teas and glanced across at each other, smiling. I was just pleased to have him back home and to be in his company again. It was obvious he felt the same.

"Are you finished?" Mobeen eventually asked as he pointed to my cup.

"Its ok sweetie, I'll take them. You relax. You want something to eat?" I asked as I reached out to take his cup.

"Nah, I'm not hungry. I had a bite with Greg on the way here."

As Mobeen spoke I climbed off the sofa and turned to go to the kitchen, without realising I'd just given him an eye-full of my panties and just the tiniest hint of damp gusset.

"Ahh Greg. How is he?" I called from the kitchen.

"He's errm fine mum... fine." Mobeen's voice sounded a little shaky.

He looked shifty when I returned to the living room, avoiding eye contact. I sat back down, this time turning my body to face him as I rested my elbow against the back of the chair.

"How're Greg's studies going?" I asked, keenly.

"Errm, ok I guess." Mobeen looked visibly flushed. His cheeks glowed a rosy pink and a shy smirk tweaked the corners of his mouth.

I glanced around the room wondering what was making him act strange. It was when I turned back and caught him taking a brazen look down at my crotch did I realise. He looked away quickly in embarrassment, knowing he'd been caught.

I glanced down and realised that the front of my skirt had folded back and my panty covered crotch was plainly visible. Worse still, the wet gusset had become almost transparent and clingy. Not only had he been getting an eye-full of my cameltoe but he could clearly see the outline of my curly pussy lips through the thin wet fabric.

In a panic I quickly sat forward, crossing my legs in front of me. I wasn't gambling on flashing so much to him so soon and I felt a tightness in my stomach as an awkward silence descended on the room. In a further panic, I abruptly got up and rushed out of the room.

I bolted up to my bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind me and leaning back against it. I was trembling with an intoxicating cocktail of shame and excitement, as I realised I'd given my son his first peek at his mother's pussy -- albeit within the confines of my soaking gusset. I exhaled loudly and chuckled under my breath, feeling giddy. I bent over to check again and you could clearly see my curly pussy lips through the thin wet fabric. God, it was so naughty!

I reminded myself that I was supposed to just let things take their course, not to be too pushy. Just playful. Just have fun. Just enjoy teasing him. But I was just so excited. 

I'd been fantasising about him for weeks I was gagging for him to just make a move on me. I was aching to be touched, now. I couldn't understand all of my earlier anxieties now that I was in his presence, wanting so badly to be accepted and desired by him. Having him so close, seeing that glint of lust in his eye each time I caught him taking a peek, how could I fight this urge? How could I refuse to offer him that which he too desired?

But in my panic I'd probably left him feeling confused about what was going on. Shit, what must he be thinking?!

In a flash I was on the phone to FJM, my head spinning as I sought his advice on what to do next. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when he told me to just take my panties off and head back downstairs. I baulked at the idea. If Mobeen was awkward about seeing me through my wet gusset, parading my coochie to him would probably make him run a mile!

But FJM has a way of persuading me despite my reservations. 

"You can do this." He whispered to me in that twisted yet persuasive tone of his. "You CAN do this. It will be easy. It's what you wanted to do all along. It's why your panties have soaked through; you're hot because you wanted to flash yourself to Mobeen all along. You wanted to seduce him. Why are you wasting time? You should have been without panties all along. Get back downstairs and let your son see the beautiful pussy you have all ready for him. Let him have a taste of mummy's honeypot. You want that don't you? You want Mobeen to have a taste of mummy's juicy pussy don't you? You've gone and had it waxed all for him, doesn't he deserve to get to play with it? Don't you want him to know that? Know that mummy's got her pussy all ready for him. Just for him? You want that don't you, sweetheart? I bet you're rubbing your pussy right night now just imagining it already."




Fuck Morality - Sona's Story Ch. 02



The bastard was right. I hated how he could do this to me. I was standing there, back against the door frantically flicking my sensitive clitoral bud as his debauched words filled my mind and I too succumbed to his perversity.

"I know you're playing with your pussy sweetheart, I know you. I know you desperately want to go downstairs and fuck your son. You don't need to be shy or embarrassed with me. I know you. You're desperate to be fucked by him. It's what you've been dreaming about for weeks. He's just downstairs, sweetheart. Go to him. He wants you, too. We wants to whip his cock out and feed it to you. You want that don't you? To kneel on the floor sucking of your baby boy? Having him watch while you wrap your pretty lips around his huge cock, letting him see the hunger in your eyes as you pump his cock and massage his balls? You want it, sweetheart, I know you do. He's downstairs waiting for you, wondering when you're gonna come down and suck him off like a good mummy should."

An involuntary moan escaped my lips as I bit hard to keep from groaning.

"You want that don't you babes?" He continued. "Don't you?"

"Yes" I squeaked. The voice came from somewhere deep within me, like a pre-scripted reply. I realised it didn't need to be questioned, the answer was self evident.

"Don't you, babes? Tell me. I want to hear you say it. I know you want to say it, to say it out loud. Just say it and you'll feel much better. Tell me that you want to be a good mummy to your son."

"I do." I replied, my voice weak. "I do. I so do..."

"Say the words, babes, say you want to be a good mummy for your son. Say it while you play with your pussy."

"I want to be a good mummy to my son. I want to be a GOOD fucking mummy." I growled as I rubbed furiously at my soaking pussy, mashing my slick lips in circles. I hated FJM. Hated him for the way in which he'd get me to confess my feelings. I loved him for that too.

"Tell me you want to suck his cock." FJM replied, he's voice steady and commanding.

"I want to suck his cock so badly."

"Say the words. Say you want to suck *your son's* cock so badly. You need to hear the words coming out of your own mouth. You need to hear YOURSELF say it."

"I want to fucking suck my son's cock." I growled as the sound of those words drove me wild with lust.

"That's right babes. Say it again."

"I want to suck my son's great big cock. I want to suck it so bad..." I began, the words flowing easily through my sexual haze. "I want to kneel on the floor and beg for him to feed it to me. I want him to watch me suck it off. I want him to see how much I love the taste of his cock. I wanna show him how hungry I am for it. I wanna suck his cock and pump it till he cums in my mouth. I wanna drink all his sperm, swallow it all till it fills my belly. I want him to see how happy that makes me. I want him to be proud of how well I sucked him off. I want him to tell me how much he loves cumming in my mouth, how much he loves when I gobble up all of his spunk. God I want it so bad, so fucking BAD!"

"That's it sweetheart. There you go babes. Now you're ready. Now you're ready to go back to Mobeen and give yourself to him."

I panted as I felt the beginnings of an orgasm build in my tummy. I *didn't* want to cum. Not like this. Not alone in my room. Not while I had my son downstairs.

"Oh fuck, you bastard. I can't believe I'm gonna do this. But I so need this." I gasped into the phone.

"I know, sweetheart. Now you get your self looking tidy and go back downstairs. It'll all be fine. You can tell me about it afterwards. Go. GO! --CLICK--"

I threw the phone onto my bed, in a mix of anger and sexual frustration. My room was filled with an ominous silence, punctuated only by my unsteady rasps echoing around the sparse walls. I was so turned on it is practically driving me mad. But I knew what I wanted. I knew I desperately had to have my son today and hopefully, he wanted me too.

I yanked my sopping wet panties down my thighs, tearing them away with surprising eagerness with trembling hands and jerky motions. My mind filled with a toxic mush of sex hormones and FJM-inspired perversity. I used them to mop up the slippery mess I'd made between my legs, wiping all my cunt juices away thoroughly.

I headed to the mirror to quickly check myself over again. Immediately I was shocked at the sight of my nipples jutting out like hardened studs from beneath the woollen fabric of the sweater. My hand came up to cover my mouth, my face flushed a bright red, as I was left wondering how long I'd been parading my obvious excitement to my son. And as I turned around and craned my neck back I gasped at the shameless view of my naked ass. and as I leaned forward slightly, there was my my pink pussy, curly moist lips flared out like an inviting flower, tucked away neatly between my ass cheeks.

My heart pounded as I questioned whether I could really go through with this. I'd wanted to be alluring and seductive but going out like this was practically screaming out my sexual availability and wanton lust. It was one think talking through it with FJM on the phone but it was quite another for me to actually go downstairs and live out that fantasy.

I considered my options. I could wear a longer skirt or just go with a pair of trousers. But what signal would that send to Mobeen? Having paraded in front of him in this miniskirt, he'd wonder what he'd done wrong for me to have got changed. No. I didn't want that. I didn't want him to think he'd done anything wrong.

If anything he'd done everything right. Checking out my legs and sneaking a peak at my pussy; God, this boy was definitely interested. He'd been shifting around uncomfortably on the sofa and I knew he had an erection he was trying desperately to conceal. An erection that I'd given him!

That thought sent a delightful chill up my spine as I smiled to myself. My baby boy was definitely keen on catching an eyeful. Perhaps it was time to give him something to really whet his appetite?

I swallowed hard and trembled as I walked slowly back downstairs, the heels of my boots making clacking noises against the hard wood of the staircase. My heart was pounding as I felt my wet pussy lips slip and slide against each other between my thighs, sending little tingly feelings to my clit making it throb with anticipation.

I entered the living room to find a guilty look on Mobeen's face. He was probably feeling bad for what happened before, thinking that it was his fault I ran out.

"Is... is everything ok, mum?" He asked, unsure of himself and half expecting to be told off. His eyes were wide and doughy, making me melt inside, wanting desperately to hold and comfort my son. I was filled with such a confusing mix of emotions, my mind felt like mush while my body trembled with excitement and trepidation.

"Oh baby, everything is fun. I just needed to go and check something in my room." I replied softly, trying my best to calm my own nerves. He had no idea just yet about the naked treat I now had under my skirt.

"Oh... ok." He replied, not entirely satisfied with my answer, while accepting it may be the only answer he'd get for now.

I sat back on the sofa, feeling the strangely pleasant sensation of the cold leather against my naked pussy. A thought popped into my mind about how I was going to conceal the obvious slimy mess I'd be leaving on the sofa when I got up. I had to dismiss the thought quickly. I'd have to cross that bridge when I got there!

We talked for a bit, sharing a punctuated conversation that seemed to meander without direction or purpose. It was obvious that both of us were distracted by other thoughts and there was a definite electricity in the air. There was an almost teenage giddiness to the situation as we chortled and flashed each other knowing glances and cheeky smiles as the two of us slowly began to relax again.

I began finding excuses to keep getting up to 'check things', knowing that each time I did so, I'd flash my baby boy some pussy. The first time I did it I was practically sick with nerves but I found it got easier and easier as I got more risky and playful.

I found any excuse to wander around; hoping that his eyes would be following me, desperately trying to catch glimpses up my skirt. I was making it easy for him, swaying my hips provocatively, arching my back, letting my skirt flutter carelessly. I couldn't believe I was being so daring and shameless!

I caught him adjusting himself several times, briefly catching site of the large bulge in his trousers. It felt so hot, getting him excited and frustrated, knowing how horny he must be feeling, wondering whether he might get so worked up that he'd finally just grab me and fuck my brains out.

We smiled at each other knowingly. It felt like we were playing our own naughty little game. But despite the obvious sexual tension in the air, I struggled to take it that step further. As much as I wished for Mobeen to eventually make a move, he seemed satisfied just to ogle me.

During a prolonged awkward silence I stupidly asked if he wanted to watch some TV, immediately cursing myself for inviting the distraction. He too seemed a little disappointed as it sounded like I was calling an end to our little playtime. But it turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I spent the next 10 minutes looking for the remote, giving me numerous opportunities to bend, stretch, flex, spread, arch my way through numerous exaggerated positions aimed at nothing more than to show myself off to my son.

And he seemed to play along too, pointing out nooks and crannies where the remote could be knowing that in order for me to get to those places, I'd be bent over, arching my back and giving him an unhindered view of his mother's hot wet snatch. I happily obliged, shamelessly parading my cunt for him, teasing and pleasing him with my bawdy parade.

"Why is it that every place you point out seems to be somewhere lowdown forcing me to bend over?" I asked, still bent over and in no rush to straighten up again. "Are you really helping me find the remote or something else?"

"I'm helping you. Really, I am" He replied with a sly smirk on his face as he reached into his jeans and made no attempt at discretion as he adjusted his bulge. "But you know what, forget the remote, you can just switch the buttons from the box under the TV."

Rather dumbly I decided to do just that and stepped over to the TV set. The digibox was set on the lower shelf of the tv stand, only a few inches off the floor.

I looked at the digibox and looked back at my son, understanding perfectly his brazen little ploy. He'd basically invited me to get on the floor and give him a sexy show from there. I pretended to roll my eyes at him unable to hold back my own knowing smile.

Of course, I could have turned to the side and merely stretched down to turn the switch on the digibox, or I could have squatted on the floor and shown some lady-like decency and class. But where's the fun in that? Instead I opted to slowly get on all fours, face inches from the floor, knees apart, back arched, skirt riding up and ass high in the air. I even found the courage and audacity to reach between my legs to briefly run a fingertip between my pussy lips, spreading my slippery juices around my sex in preparation, knowing full well it was all in plain sight and only feet away from my son's bulging eyes.

This was it; I was basically inviting my son to fuck me. I don't know how I'd managed to find the courage to finally go for it but here I was. Brazenly and wantonly parading my fuck hole for him in a clear unambiguous invite for him to climb on board and plug my sopping pussy. No more games, no more playtime. This was me, putting it on a plate. All he had to do was whip out his thick cock and slide it into me. All the way to the hilt. No more chitchat, no more flirting or fooling around, no more naughty pussy parades, I was ready to be fucked and he had only to climb off the sofa, kneel behind me, aim his fat cock at my hungry pussy and shove it in hard, real HARD, right up hilt until it speared my cervix. Then he could lean over me and growl lustily into my ear about how great his mummy's hot pussy felt around his huge fuck pole.

I was panting with expectation as he made me wait, forcing me to remain in that position of shameless and wanton sexual need. I'd lost all inhibition by that point. With one hand I'd reached under my loose sweater and was massaging my boob, twisting and pinching my taught nipple. My other hand was between my legs, fingers stroking my pussy, slipping into my wet sex occasionally to feel the moist inviting warmth inside. Drawing out the copious juices to smear all over my tingling cunt, before prying my lips wide open to reveal the slick pinkness of my hungry gash.

I heard a shuffle behind me as Mobeen climbed off the sofa and joined me on the floor. I daren't look back, scared that eye contact might break the moment, might force me to reconsider breaching this ultimate taboo. It would be easier like this. Almost anonymous. I was merely a woman needing a fuck and he was the stud who was going to satisfy me, going to plough away years of drought and neglect, remind me once again what it felt like to be a woman and to be physically pleasured by a man. A *real* man.

I felt him lean over me, his large frame tower over mine as he crawled up over my body making me feel dainty and delicate. Casually, he ran he's hand along the side of my body, over my abdomen and swiftly under my sweater. The physical contact was electric, my baby boys' first sexual contact with his mother. With casual ease he pushed my sweater up, causing both my boobs to spill free. He groped one, then the other, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if he'd practiced these motions a million times on my body.

I gasped, feeling the lustful groping of a man's sexual hunger once again after so long. A second hand reached under me and he now held both of my boobs in his hands, squeezing them delightfully. Tender yet rough, he masterfully caressed my flesh, tweaking and pinching my nipples as he massaged them in earnest.

He pulled me up so I was kneeling now, he's arms reaching around me from behind as he's hands gripped my boobs tightly. He leaned into me and inhaled at the nape of my neck telling me how sexy I smelt and how fuckable I looked. A moan escaped my lips, letting him know he was saying all the right things.

He's teasing words sent tantalising shocks through my body. I was working my fingers furiously at my sex now. The sound of wet clicking and smacking noises echoed around the room as I mashed my pussy lips together in quick circular motions, occasionally pumping two fingers in and out of my hot cunt.

I reached my other hand behind me, placing it tentatively on his thigh at first and then reaching further behind and to his lower abdomen till I felt the bristle of his neatly trimmed pubes. Without hesitation I reached down, finding his thick manhood easily and wrapping my fingers around his fat prick.

He felt big. Really BIG. He was hard and throbbing with the urgency of manly desire. I pumped his shaft a few times, hearing the sweet gasp of satisfaction escape his lips. As I ran my fingers up along the veiny cock I let my fingertips flick gently over the bulbous cock head, hearing him moan and flinch at the sensitivity. I reached down to the base of his cock now, reaching further to cup his large sac, rolling his large balls in my hand, unable to hold both of them together in my small palm.

I had to have him. Right then. Feeling the urgency in his massive shaft I knew he wanted me too. I leaned forwards onto all fours again, arching my back and pushing my ass out, inviting my son once again to finally take me, his mother.

He placed his enormous cockhead against my waiting fuckhole. He held it there, letting me feel it's ominous presence, the naked lust that it represented and the debauched and forbidden act it was about to perform when it would finally violate me, his mother. He massaged himself into the slick folds of my cunt, coating himself whilst teasing me, keeping me on the brink of madness and dizzying lust. He ran his cock up and down along my slit, pressing it against my throbbing clit but eventually being drawn to where my flesh presented the weakest resistance and he'd sink deeper into my soft velvety pocket.

He placed a hand either side of my hips, taking a firm hold of my body as he's raging hot cockhead sank gently into my waiting pussy, dominating the maw of its slick hungry mouth. I arched my back further, pushing my ass out, shamelessly presenting my sex to him as well as demonstrating my eagerness to receive him. This was finally going to be it!

He began pushing against my weakened vulva, as it relaxed and welcomed his penetration. He's slippery cockhead eased confidently into my cunt, gliding like a warm knife through butter. Inch by fantastical inch I felt myself stretch to accommodate his thick girth as he conquered my forbidden depths.

I was panting now, very aware of how much larger he was than any man I'd ever experienced. He kept applying pressure, easing in as he felt me adjust to accommodate him, a practiced lover, patiently allowing for my cunt to stretch and adjust and gradually accept the entirety of his magnificent phallus.

He began fucking me slowly, initially just in gentle undulating motions as he ground his hips into me and slowly building up a gentle rhythm. Withdrawing only a couple of inches to then push into me again, each time seeming to bury himself deeper and deeper into my body.

He leaned into me, breathlessly telling me how great my pussy felt. I responded quickly to my lover, moaning how wonderful his cock felt, praising his size and girth and how masterfully he fucked my pussy, how thankful I was for his patience, how much I wanted to accommodate ALL of his wonderful cock, how much I wanted him to enjoy my pussy. This encouraged him as he began fucking me harder, holding me tighter at the waist as he began pumping his fat cock into me with swifter and deeper thrusts.

He filled me easily now, my tight little pussy stretching obscenely around his fat girth, squeezing and massaging his thick cock in its moist velvety embrace. I begged to be fucked harder. My lover obliged. Grunting in my ear what a great fuck I was as he pounded me, burying his shaft deep in my coochie.

He's thrusts because deeper and more powerful, pulling out almost to the point of slipping free and driving himself home with urgent thrusts of his muscular thighs, grunting and growling as he ploughed my depths.

I shrieked the first time I felt his cock stabbing at my cervix. But his fucking was relentless and as he held me in place masterfully, I could do nothing but accept it at part of his love, eventually enjoying and anticipating those times when his angry thrusts would penetrate so deep into me. Even angling my pussy up to him in the hope of receiving another deliciously painful thud against the entrance to my uterus.

He's wild fucking sent me into a frenzy, as I begged him to fuck me harder and faster, screaming for him to bury his hot prick into he's mother's pussy. I could feel my orgasm building as I grunted with each one of his angry thrust. He pounded my pussy now, battering my poor fuckhole and roaring with animal rage as he's own climax approached.

He reached round, closing his manly arms around me and squeezing me against his chest, lifting my petite body off the floor easily to pummel me like a rag doll. He shoved my body down onto him while at the same time thrusting his mighty cock into me, adding to the savagery of his relentless fucking, punching his massive cock into my poor abused pussy. He pushed two fingers into my mouth and I sucked them furiously, he's other hand found my pussy and rubbed my clit, finally pushing me over the edge.




Fuck Morality - Sona's Story Ch. 03



** This is a work of fiction. It contains absolutely no truth -- even the bits that sound plausible. The characters in this story are not based on any real persons, nor is the story based on any real events. It's a story people, enjoy it for it is. **

** This story is about incest between a mother and her son -- both of whom are adults. If you don't like this subject matter, move along. **

** This story is a continuation, of sorts, of the 'Morally Ambivalent Mother' series. You're better off reading them as a back story. Or you can just read this and ignore all that. Up to you. Have fun!** 

I listened to the sound of my son's breathing as it grew deeper and more relaxed, each breath hot and wet against the back of my neck and shoulders. His arms held me in a confident embrace, keeping our bodies pressed together in a huddle of deliciously clammy and sweaty flesh. we were both quietly enjoying that post coital bliss, that feeling of deep satisfaction tingling through our bodies.

Our fucking was a stark reminder for me just how much better sex was with the hulking mass of a virile testosterone fueled stud, with all his manly passion and anger, delivering his love deep into my body with every ferocious thrust of his magnificent pole. I think I appreciated it more having spent the last year knowing nothing other than a collection of over used silicone moulded dildos and my own nimble fingers for sex partners.

My son, my fantastic lover, had taken me with strength and vigour and as I lay now, cradled in his arms, belly full of his hot potent seed, I knew no one could ever satisfy me as thoroughly as he. Even now, flaccid and spent, he's meaty cock remained buried deep inside my sex. In no hurry to withdraw, it's presence a symbol of his dominion over me, he's rightful ownership of the forbidden prize I so willingly and shamelessly offered to him. I sheathed him with pride, squeezing my pelvic floor muscles in rhythmic cycles to massage and tease my lover within the velvety embrace of my warm motherly canal. Taking selfish delight in wondering whether my affections would reawaken his slumbering beast to ravish me once again.

Despite my naughty little game, I sensed Mobeen was drifting off to sleep as his breathing grew deeper still. I reached behind and gave his thigh a light but playful smack to keep him from dozing off. He grunted, rising with a startle as the sudden movement yanked his meaty cock from my freshly fertilised pussy with a sudden uncomfortable jerk. He departed with a nasty slurp followed by a rather embarrassing belch from my lady parts as air rushed to fill the yawning cavity his absence left in me.

"Whoops!" I giggled nervously, the heat growing in my cheeks as I tried to excuse the unladylike noises gurgling past the fleshy lips of my well fucked cunt. "That's a little embarrassing!" Mobeen chuckled as he nuzzled into my neck, leaving a trail of playful but reassuring kisses against my sensitive skin. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It means you've been well fucked. It means I did my job properly."

"You sure did, Sweetheart! Ooof, that was by far the most thorough fucking I've ever received." I smiled as I reached back to run my fingers through his hair, sighing with satisfaction. 

"I hope you enjoyed yourself too, hope you enjoyed mummy." I added with a hopeful smile and a twinkle in my eye.

"Are you kidding me? Mum, there were things you were doing I've never felt before with anyone. That squeezy-squeezy thing you were doing with your...um... pussy muscles. That was amazing!"

I smiled to myself. Despite having just fucked my brains out he was still sheepish about using naughty words in front of me. Or maybe he stumbled because he was referring to *my* pussy rather than any other woman's private parts. Either way, I found his awkwardness sweet and disarming. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed it baby. I wanted to make sure you enjoyed yourself." I replied with a sincerity that surprised even myself.

"I wanted to be a good *fuck* for you." I continued, enjoying how emphasising the word *fuck* gave me a giddy little thrill, as if repeating the word underlined how deliciously shameful and forbidden our bodily union was.

Mobeen pressed himself closer to me, cradling my delicate petite body and placing a sensual kiss against the side of my neck. One hand squeezed my breast gingerly before sliding down my side to squeeze my hips and ass.

"I *really* enjoyed fucking you, mum." He whispered seductively, just as he's wandering hand swept round the front of my body to reach down between my legs to cup my sex and massage my mons in purposeful circular motions.

I moaned as Mobeen's expert touch reignited the smouldering embers of incestuous lust. I raised one leg a little, parting my thighs enough to afford my son better access to me, gasping loudly when he took the opportunity to reach lower and shove two fingers into my expectant cunt.

"Oh babyyyy!" I sighed, feeling myself melt as he worked his fingers against the inside walls of my vaginal cavity. He alternated between stirring his fingers around my throbbing pouch and making quick stabbing motions into me, causing his palm to make nasty wet squelching noises against my slippery cunt lips.

He withdrew his fingers, leaving me mewing with disappointment and a feeling of gaping emptiness inside me. He brought his fingers up, pressing them against my lips where I accepted them greedily into my mouth. I sucked them hard, flicking my tongue along and between his fingers as the taste of our combined fuck juices filled my mouth.

I worked my lips over his slippery digits, performing pseudo-fellatio on this phallic substitute, purring as i demonstrated my cocksucking abilities with eagerness and pride. A moan of unabashed sexual gratification escaped from around the seal of my mouth when he growled into my ear what a fucking sexy little bitch I was.

His derogatory words gave me a naughty idea as I turned around and pushed him back so that he was lying flat on the floor. I began kissing his chest, nuzzling against his fine curly hairs as I worked my way south. I smiled at him seductively as I flicked my tongue over his skin, grinning to my lover as I sensed him realise where my affection was heading. I planted a trail of delicate kisses over his finely toned abdomen, dipping my tongue briefly into his cute little belly button before brazenly kissing and licking my way further south.

I adjusted myself on the floor, easing myself into a more comfortable position so that I could curl up, my face inches from his crotch. I kissed my way past his lower abdomen and then ran my nose through his bristly neatly trimmed pubes. The pungent smell of fucking tickled my nostrils as I inspected my son's gorgeous fuck tool, glistening in our combined fuck juices and flecked with globules of creamy white mucus.

Even while flaccid it seemed to throb menacingly. My pussy ached in anticipation as I examined my son's enormous manhood, draped casually across his thigh like a thick wet slab of dark brown meat. I leaned in to place loving kisses along the shaft, flicking my tongue teasingly along the length and licking clean the messy remnants of our earlier lovemaking. I kissed my way to his sweaty ballsack nuzzling my nose against his large testicles and inhaling his meaty odour. I reached under to lift and cup his plum sized balls marvelling at their impressive size and thrumming potency. I kissed them adoringly, listening to his delighted gasps, as I lovingly enticed those sperm factories back into action.

I attended to my son's manhood, cleaning and teasing him adoringly, taking pride in loving him back to renewed vigour. It was thrilled watching his cock slowly throb back to life, gradually filling and hardening. I looked up occasionally to see the look of fascination and lust in his eyes as he watched his mother orally pleasure him.

He pushed himself up, leaning back on his elbows as he spread his thighs wider, giving me more space to lap greedily at his genitals. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum if you carry on like that."

I flashed him a naughty smile as I peered up at him, my face buried in his crotch, licking his sweaty balls. I wondered what he must be thinking as he watched me, his mother, nuzzling her face against his testicles, working her tongue all over his crotch as she licked and sucked and kissed and nibbled. I wondered what a nasty little whore he must think of me.

He slowly climbed to his feet, towering over me as he directed me onto my knees. Reaching behind my head he nudged me forward, making me crawl across the floor as he walked backwards towards the single lazyboy recliner in the corner of the room. He sat back in the chair, draping a thigh over each armrest, tucking is hands behind his head and flashing me a cheeky smile as he signalled me to carry on pleasuring him.

I couldn't help but be charmed by my cheeky little boy, taking quiet delight in how brazen and cock sure he was. I shuffled closer to him, making myself comfortable kneeling on the floor before him, he's legs spread open before me and his magnificent cock glistening with my saliva.

I took hold of him, marvelling at his impressive length and girth. I wrapped both hands around his throbbing shaft as I pumped it slowly, maintaining eye contact and smirking knowingly at my horny son. I watched him grin like a Cheshire cat as I leaned forward, angled his cock towards me and closed my mouth around the tip of his bulbous cockhead. I pressed my tongue into his weeping eye, tasting some of his delicious precum, before letting it dance over his sensitive glans as I sucked gently.

I worked my lips slowly over his cock, kissing and sucking as I struggled to take his entire head into my mouth. Each time I tried I felt my jaw tighten and I'd have to release him again. But what I lacked in elegance I made up for in enthusiasm as I hungrily lapped away at his pulsing member. From sweaty ball sac to throbbing bell end, I pleasured him, cooing and purring my appreciation as my son watched me in wide eyed awe.

I returned my attention to his head, sucking on it vigorously as I worked my lips back and forth over the slick surface. I pumped his cock harder, both hands working his fat tool into a quick rhythm, sensing the slow buildup of his climax.

He reached behind me and pressed my head down onto his cock, trying to push himself that little bit deeper into my eager mouth, even while I struggled to accommodate him. He placed a hand on either side of my head, holding me firm as he began bucking, fucking my mouth in shallow but insistent thrusts. I tried to pump his shaft in perfect rhythm, hungrily flicking my tongue over his weeping eye as it oozed more and more of his sweet precum.

His breathing grew quicker now and I was sure he wouldn't last much longer. I sucked him in a frenzy, somehow managing to fit his whole bell-end into my mouth and letting it nudge uncomfortably against my gullet. I wanted to take him further, I wanted to swallow all of him. Like a pornstar confidently taking a massive organ deep into her throat, I wanted to swallow his entire cock till my nose was nuzzling against the prickly hairs at the base of his shaft. But each time I tried my gag reflex kicked in and I had to pull back, choking and frustrated that I couldn't give my son the pleasure of a deeper penetration.

"Fuck, I can't hold it any more." He growled as I watched, through stinging teary eyes, his face contort in pain.

"Cum, babes, don't hold it back. Come for mummy." I gasped, my voice raspy as I pulled off his cock momentarily before swallowing him to the back of my throat again. This time, despite retching I pushed him deeper, forcing him into my gullet as I swallowed and swallowed, my throat muscles spasming helplessly as I forced him deeper and deeper. I pulled back to catch a lung-full of air before attempting again, each time feeling my throat yield and flex against his invading cock.

Finally, he growled loudly as he announced his approaching climax with several deep thrusts into my throat. I pulled back enough to catch some air, just as I felt his sizzling hot spunk spray against the back of my throat. I swallowed hungrily, snatching away his thick salty cum in greedy gulps as I stayed with him throughout, sucking and slobbering over his cock. I pumped his pulsing member furiously with one hand, massaging his balls as they emptied their delicious contents into my mouth and down my throat.

He continued humping, riding his orgasm as I devoted myself to prolonging and intensifying the feeling for him. I moaned with him, feeling the joy of bringing my son to climax, as I gobbled up his creamy reward.

Slowly, as his climax subsided he began to relax and sink back into the seat. I carried on sucking him, letting my tongue dance over his sensitive glans while drawing out the last of his sperm and ensuring he'd emptied his balls completely.

When I finally released his cock, I clicked my tongue at the feint sweet taste of what remained of his delicious spunk in my mouth. I leaned back, watching him with a lusty gaze as I grinned broadly, beaming with pride as I wiped my mouth against the back of my hand and rubbed the stinging tears from my eyes. He peered at me through half open eyes, a smirk tweaking the corners of his mouth as he exhaled loudly.

"Phew, that was fucking amazing. I don't think I've ever had anyone suck my cock like that before." He grinned.

I leaned forward again and angled his hard cock towards me, reaching out my tongue to scoop up the cloudy white teardrop that had formed in his cock-eye. Closing my mouth around the sensitive head I made a show of sucking him off a while longer, a smile tweaking my lips as they stretched tight around his purple head. I moaned and groaned my satisfaction and appreciation before letting him slip free from my lips.

"Thanks babes" I winked seductively, my voice throaty and hoarse. "That was delicious!"

His head flopped to the side as a chuckled. 

"What're you thanking me for?" He asked as he ran in fingers through my hair, gently nudging me closer to his cock again. I happily obliged, placing affectionate adoring kisses over his cock and balls.

"Because I think I might have enjoyed that more than you." I replied, as I kissed his large balls in gratitude for all the hot spunk they're produced for me.

"Trust me mum, you can't possibly have enjoyed that as much as I did. phew, that was fucking mind blowing! Just watching you sucking me off... I can't over it!"

I chuckled to myself, proud of having pleasured my son so thoroughly as I watched the satisfied smile spread across his face. "Honey, you have no idea how much i enjoyed doing that for you and having you cum in my mouth. mmmMMMMM"

"Fuck, i can't get over how fucking sexy you are!" He exclaimed with a smile, he's eyes wide with fascination and wonderment.

I leaned back and let out a long satisfied sigh, aware as I gazed lustily at my son that he was drinking in the site of my naked body, kneeling obediently at the foot of the chair. I pushed out my chest, parading my pert naked boobs, nipples taut and inviting as I watched him licking his lips.

"Shall we go and get showered?" I purred, making a point of reaching between my legs to massage my aching wet sex, slipping two fingers into my waiting fuckhole before bringing them to my lips and licking them slowly and seductively. "You've left mummy in such a mess I think You need to help me clean up."

"mmmMMm. I like the sound of that." He said as he sat up in the chair, reached between my legs and shoving two fat fingers roughly into my sopping pussy.

I inhaled sharply at the sudden intrusion, it felt a little sore from the earlier hard fucking. nonetheless I pushed my knees apart and leaned back, grinding my pussy against his invading digits, licking my lips as I groaned my satisfaction to him.

"Come, let's go upstairs so I can fuck this pussy some more." He growled.

I hissed in delight at his course language and commanding tone, taking his hand as he helped me up off the floor. We both headed up to the shower, our hands playfully stroking and teasing each others bodies as we left the living room and climbed the stairs to continue our incestuous frolicking upstairs.