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Mother's Love

By: BoneHur7



Note: This is a work of fiction. It explores the controversial subject of incest in adult relationships, and may be considered by many to be offensive. If you have strong feelings against incest, please do not read any further. But if you choose to proceed, be advised that this is purely a fictional story, and no resemblance to any person or persons is intended. The story is in nine parts. No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form for commercial purposes. If you have any comments on the story, please send them to the address in my profile.

* * * * *

Mary walked gingerly down the small trail in the woods, looking for the brook she could hear down below. She dodged low branches of the lush trees that lined the narrow trail, making her way down to the water for a refreshing bath. She was wearing a knee-length robe over her underwear, and carried a small plastic bag containing her fresh clothes.

She had come to this heavily wooded campsite with her 19-year old son Matthew. It had been their annual ritual during Matthew's spring break for the past five years since her husband suddenly died of heart attack while on a business trip overseas. At the young age of 40, Mary found herself widowed, with a teenage son to raise. Her older daughter Meg had gone away to college, and Mary was left to take care of the household by herself. After the initial shock had worn off, Matthew had told his mother that he would take care of her, and true to his word, he had been an exemplary son, helping out in all the chores, and taking on many of the routine jobs which his father used to do. Mary had become very fond of her son, and adored him tremendously. She depended on him, and he on her, and they had developed a very strong bond of love between them.

Mary kept thinking of how the five years had gone by, as she got closer to the water. She could see glimpses of the shimmering surface through the dense foliage, but she was still a few hundred feet above the water. As she turned to her right past a rather large tree, she suddenly came upon a clearing through which she could see the gently flowing stream of water. She stood there, watching the beautiful sight, looking at the reflection of the clouds above, and the thick forest along the bank of the brook. She was about to move on, when she caught a glimpse of a man in the water, as he stepped out and reached for the towel. At first she did not recognized him, but in a moment realized that it was her son, Matthew. 

Mary watched as he scrubbed himself clean. Her eyes grew in disbelief as he vigorously scrubbed his groin, massaging the whole area as he dried himself. She could not believe the size of his cock as it grew due to the friction of the towel. In a few moments it was stiff, pointing at his belly. She suddenly felt guilty watching her own son like that, and moved on, making her way down to the water. She knew he had not seen her, because she was well hidden by the foliage. Besides, he had been too busy finishing up to realize that she was standing above him.

Matt looked up as she came down the trail, and smiled.

"Good morning, Mom. Did you sleep well?" He picked up his towel and moved toward her.

Mary simply nodded, looking at her young son's slim body. He had put on his shorts and tee shirt, and was scrubbing his hair. Matt gave her a hug, and kissed her on the cheek. Mary kissed him on his head, and turned to look for a place to put down her bag.

"How's the water, Matt?"

"Oh, it's great. Very refreshing. I know you will like it. But to really enjoy it, you have to go skinny dipping."

"Not when you are around, Matthew," Mary replied.

"That's okay, Mom. I understand. I am heading back to the cabin. But I suggest you do go skinny dipping."

"I'll see."

"Okay. I'll see you later. Don't be too long. We have to be at the Dining Hall by 8. You have 30 minutes to get back to the cabin."

"Okay. Now go."

Matthew laughed, as he watched his mother fidgeting and blushing at the thought of going nude in the water. He turned and started walking back up the trail.

"You know, Mom. You shouldn't worry about skinny dipping. You are quite good looking," he said, as he waved at her, and disappeared in the foliage.

Later at the Dining Hall, Matt leaned over to his mother, and asked in a low voice, "Did you do it, Mom?"

She looked at him blankly at first, and then realizing what he was asking, smiled at him, and said, "Yes, Matt. You were right. The cool water felt so good against the skin. I feel quite refreshed. Thanks for the tip."

Matthew beamed with joy. He looked at his mother. She looked radiant. She was 45 years old, but looked not a day over 35. She had managed to maintain her slender but well-endowed figure by regular exercise, and as a result, her breasts showed no sag despite bearing two children. She was nearly as tall as her son, who was a few inches under six feet tall. Because of her height, her otherwise large breasts did not look overly large, and she carried herself quite gracefully. She was a vivacious woman, full of life and energy, and stunningly beautiful. Matt was very proud of her.

"You look so gorgeous, Mom."

"Thanks, honey. You are also quite handsome. What is the plan for the day?"

Matthew told her about the hiking trip after breakfast, and then some outdoor games following lunch and siesta. The campsite people had planned a camp fire at night, if the nice, sunny weather held up through the day. Mary listened to her son, catching his enthusiasm and joy in the outdoors activities. As she watched his animated face, the earlier sight of him coming out of the water floated back into her consciousness.

Mary recalled his youthful form, and bit her lip as the memory of his erect organ, jutting out from his golden bush, came back. She looked at his face, and his blonde locks, his narrow chin and straight nose. She found his deep blue eyes very fascinating, as she always had. He was handsome, and now as he became an adult, he had taken after his father, showing signs of the same rugged, athletic look her husband had. She missed her husband very much, but now she was quite happy having her son around. He was the best son any mother could have, and she was very proud of him.

She recalled how, when he graduated from high school, he declined all the offers from big schools, even those that were willing to offer him scholarships, because he wanted to stay close to his mother. He loved her very much, and after his father died suddenly, he made a decision never to leave her alone. She knew he had sacrificed good schools for her, and she was extremely grateful. Now in his second year at the local college, Matthew was very popular with his professors and especially the girls. But he kept the girls at bay, not wanting anything to distract him from his studies and his mother.

Mary patted his hand, and said, "Which group are you going with?"

"I don't know, Mom. How about you? Aren't you going hiking?"

"I haven't decided."

"Then join our group. I'd love to hike with you."

"Okay. Go and find out which group we'll be in. I'll get ready. Do you suppose I could wear shorts, or should I stick with my jeans?"

"Anything is okay, Mom. You look gorgeous in anything."

Mary laughed. She knew it was true, but she loved to hear it from her son. She knew he simply adored her, and was very proud of her stunning beauty. She also knew that he was still almost like a child, and quite innocent in the ways of the world, considering he was already 19 years old. 

She got up, and said, "All right, Matt. I'm going to the cabin. You find out where we are supposed to meet, and get me. I think I'll change into shorts, and your dad's shirt. It is very soft."

"Great, Mom. I'll get you when they are ready to leave. I want to talk to some other kids for a while." He kissed her on the cheek, and left.

The hike turned out to be quite an adventure. Matthew stayed close to his mother, making sure she could negotiate the narrow trails which sometimes got too close to the edge of the hillside. They hiked along the trail, circling the brook, and stopped for lunch at almost the same spot where Matt and Mary had bathed that morning. Matt sat next to his mother, and said, "Isn't this the best spot, Mom? Nobody can see you from above until they are practically on top of you. I love the privacy of this place. So how did you like skinny dipping? Will you do it again tomorrow?"

"Maybe. How many people know about this place?"

"Oh, everybody knows about it. But our cabin is closest to it, and so when I come here early, I have the whole place to myself. There is no one to watch you if you want to swim in the buff, or lie naked in the water. It feels great. You should try it, Mom."

"I don't know. Someone could show up suddenly, and then it would be quite embarrassing."

"How about if we come early in the morning, Mom? Nobody gets up before 7. We'll get here by six, and then we'll have a whole hour. How about it, Mom?"

"Won't the water be cold so early in the morning?"

"Not too cold. This brook comes off of a hot spring a couple of miles upstream. So the water is kind of warm. The Indian guide told us last year that the water has many medicinal qualities and cures all skin diseases. He said the Indians always bathe in this water, and the medicine man uses this water to make his medicines. So it would be perfect for us, Mom. Is it a deal?"

"Let me think about it, son."

"You are not sure about skinny dipping in front of me, is that it?", Matthew asked.

Mary didn't know how to answer him. He was always direct, and candid about how he felt, and what he thought. He was a simple, innocent young man, and that was one quality she loved in her son. So she knew he expected a straight answer.

"I think so, son. I am not sure it would be a good idea."

"Okay, but I think you are making a big deal about it, Mom. I mean, you have seen me naked many times before. And frankly, I don't see why you are shy about it yourself. You have a great figure, Mom. You should be proud of it." 

"It's not that, honey. Of course I am proud of my body. But you are not a child anymore. You are a grown up young man. It would be okay for you to be nude in front of me, but not for me to be nude in front of you. I am your mother."

"Okay, I am not pushing. But it is really no big deal. It's not like I don't know what a female body looks like. I have seen pictures in magazines."

They got up, and headed back to the cabin, before going to the Dining Hall for lunch. Mary said nothing. She did not know if she could handle her feelings and reactions looking at her son's nakedness. She had been shocked to find that the sight of his nude body that morning had caused a mild response from her. She had felt the hardening of her nipples, and a tingle between her legs. She knew it was not a good sign, and so she did not want to confront the situation.

Matthew was quite considerate of his mother. He figured the reason why she had declined was that she did not want him to see her naked body. He had seen her slender, curvaceous form many times, and knew she had a very firm and voluptuous body. He had often reacted to her femaleness, especially around the time of her monthly period when her body gave out strong female smells. He had found himself being aroused by it, and also at the sight of her body clad in her favorite silk night dresses which clung to her body. He knew she slept in the nude, just as he did, and had often caught glimpses of her breasts or hips whenever he passed by her bedroom in the morning. He was often attracted to her physically, but had never entertained any erotic thoughts about her. She was his mother, and he simply loved her. And he loved hugging her and kissing her, enjoying the warmth of her body at such times.

PART 2

By the next morning, Mary had reconciled her dilemma. She knew that her son had no lewd thoughts about her. That was not her problem. She was unsure of herself, and she knew it. But she finally decided that nothing would happen between them, for no other reason than the fact that Matthew would not even think about such a thing. She felt confident that she would be all right.

Matt woke up early, and looked over at his mother, who was sleeping in the next bed. She seemed to be fast asleep. Disappointed, he gathered up his clothes and toothbrush, and headed down the path to the brook. Mary heard the door close behind him, and woke up. She realized that Matt had already left for the brook. She decided to surprise him. Quickly gathering up her stuff, she followed him. When he reached the water, Matt removed his clothes and jumped in. As he surfaced, and shook the water off his hair and face, he saw his mother coming down the trail. He waved at her, and shouted, "The water is quite warm, Mom."

Mary put down her plastic bag, and removed her robe. Matthew watched her, as her curvaceous body slowly came into view. Mary removed her night dress, and looked at her son. She was standing only a few feet away from him on the bank, clad only in a panty. She saw him stare at her firm breasts, and her slender waist. Then he looked at her, and said softly, "Mom, you are so beautiful. Come on, jump in the water. It's warm, I promise."

"Thanks, sweetheart, for the compliment. Now turn around."

Matt turned away from her. Mary quickly removed her panty, and jumped in the water. Matt turned back to look at his mother. She surfaced only a few feet away from him, and shook her head to get rid of the water. It was indeed warm. She loved the feel of the water against her bare skin. Matt smiled at her, and said, "Doesn't it feel great, Mom? I told you."

Mary swam towards him, and when she came closer, he put his hand out to her, and said, "Come on, Mom. Let's swim together down the stream for a lap." He pulled her by the hand and began swimming, rolling as he went down the stream. Mary tried to keep up with him, and watched as he rolled on his back, and floated for a while. She could see the wet patch of golden hair between his legs, and his limp cock resting on his flat belly. He saw her looking at him, and flipped over. 

"Come on, Mom. Don't just tread water. Get some exercise. Come on, catch me if you can."

Mary nodded, and pushed off after him. She was a good swimmer, having won some medals when she was in college many years ago. She chased him around the brook, and as she got closer to him, she ducked under the water to throw him off. Matt looked back, and realized that she had disappeared. Suddenly, he found himself being lifted out of the water, as Mary slipped under him and stuck her head between his legs, lifting him on her shoulders. Matt quickly jumped off, pushing her head down under water, and slipped out of her hands. 

They both surfaced almost face to face, and laughed at the situation. Mary flung her arms around his neck, and said, "Oh, son. That was fun. You are a good swimmer."

"So are you, Mom. You haven't lost it one bit. You were too fast for me."

Mary kissed him on the lips, and said, "Thanks. Let's get out of here before someone shows up."

"Okay, Mom. But first I want to hug you. It feels so good."

Without waiting for her reply, Matt pulled his mother into his arms and hugged her tightly. Their naked bodies clung to each other as Matt held her tightly by her waist. Mary felt his organ between her legs. She found her nipples responding to his male body. Before she could do anything about it, Matt's hands had drifted downward to her butt. He squeezed her firm flesh as he pressed himself into her, and kissed her on the lips. Surprised by his unexpected move, Mary involuntarily opened her mouth. Matt instinctively pushed his tongue between her lips, as he had done with some of the girls he had kissed. Mary let out a moan, as she responded to his deep kiss, pulling him into her by grabbing his butt.

Matt felt his cock stiffen as their intimacy aroused him. Mary pulled one of his hands away from her butt, and placed it on her breast. Immediately, Matt took the other hand also, and gently cupped her firm breasts, kneading the firm flesh in his hands. Mary gasped, and suddenly came to her senses. She pushed him away, and quickly ducked under water, trying to get away from him. As she slipped under water, and looked up, she saw his erect organ floating in the water, gently bobbing up and down as he began moving away from her. She fought the urge to reach out and touch him, and swam back to the shore. They both got out of the water, and stood facing each other. There was an awkward moment, before Matt cleared his throat.

"I am awfully sorry, Mom. I shouldn't have kissed you like that."

Mary found her voice. Looking at his long organ which was slowly losing its erection, she said, "That's okay, honey. I also got carried away. You are a handsome young man. Anyone would be tempted."

Stepping closer to him, she reached out and took his soft cock in her hands. Squeezing it gently, she said, "This is very beautiful, Matt. You have become a man now."

"Gee, Mom. Thanks," he replied, putting his hand over her as his cock began to harden again. "Your hand feels so good, Mom."

Mary felt her nipples harden as the feel of his young cock sent shivers down her spine. Licking her lips, she said, "I love the way it is getting hard, son. I want to feel its stiffness."

Matt didn't have to do anything. The highly erotic situation was enough for his cock to stiffen and extend fully in his mother's hand. She watched in fascination as it stretched and throbbed gently in her hand. She pulled him closer and squeezed his shaft lovingly. Matt looked at her with eyes full of love and desire. He was clearly aroused, and needed to relieve himself. Mary sensed his urgency. She said, "Let's get back in the water."

As soon as they were back in the water, Mary took his cock in her hand and began pumping him slowly. Matt grabbed her by the waist, and began jerking his hips against her fist, groaning with pleasure. Mary watched his face, her heart full of love for her wonderful son. Matt pulled her into him as his orgasm approached.

"Oh, Mom. I can't hold off anymore. Please pump harder."

Mary parted her legs slightly and pushed the tip of his throbbing cock between her legs. The tip brushed against her bush, and Matt opened his eyes. Realizing that his cock was pressing against his mother's bush, he groaned loudly, unable to hold off. Panting with desire, he grabbed her buttocks and thrust his hips against her. His cock slipped between her legs and twitched, as he shot his load off against her thighs. Mary quickly pushed back, and grabbed the jerking cock in her hands, pumping it rapidly to squeeze out all the juice he could spurt. Matt sighed as he emptied his balls in his mother's palm, and hugged her. Mary hugged him back, and kissed him on the lips.

"Do you feel better now, son?"

Matt just nodded, smiling weakly. He was exhausted by the powerful orgasm. He could not believe that his own mother had brought him off. But he felt no recoil, no remorse or disgust. He looked into the eyes of his beautiful mother, and said, "Mom, that was the greatest. How can I thank you? Did we do something wrong?"

"No, son. I was glad to help, darling. When two people love each other, it is okay to share such intimate experiences. But we must leave quickly now. Someone might come any moment."

"Yes. Let's get out of here."

They quickly dried themselves, and put on their clothes. As they made their way up their cabin, they met a young couple going down to the water. The girl asked Mary if the water was warm. Mary nodded, and said, "It's great. My son and I had a great time. Have fun."

Part 3

The camping trip came to an end in a few days, and Matt returned home with his mother. Neither of them spoke about the incident at the lake, but they both sensed that things were no longer the same between them. Mary realized, with a mixture of sadness and excitement, that the innocence which governed her relationship with her son, had somehow diminished, and replaced by a heightened sense of awareness of their mutual sexuality. Nothing further happened between them at the camp, as the mother and son tried to observe their filial limits.


Mother's Love



[This short story has been provided by a wonderful friend. I have made very few changes with a view to protect the flow of her thoughts and the nuances] 

I am Mrs. Mohini Rajendran., middle aged woman of good health. My husband was in Real Estate Business. Unfortunately he met with accident while going to his site and died before admission to the hospital. He had constructed half a dozen shops in a prime area of the town and gave then on rental basis for commercial shop keepers. Rent received from the shop-keepers was the only source of income for me and his insurance money also came to us by way of security.

I have a teen age son Raju, who was studying in the second year Engineering course. He was demanding a two wheeler to keep himself mobile. But my memories of my husband haunted me and I really do not want to lose him like my husband. So I refused to buy a two wheeler for him and I told him that he is too young and when he finishes his engineering Degree I will buy a car for him instead of a scooter. He was pleased and stopped asking for a two wheeler.

My son Raju's academic performance was always more than average and as such I had no occasion to interfere with his class work. He was well disciplined boy. I always him money whenever he wanted to buy his thing. I told him that he can always buy anything he want but only what was necessary. He should not spend money without thinking.

Money should be respected and we should spend only when there is a necessity.

Every thing was going on well. Of late I found that he was bringing cheap girlie porn magazines and he was reading hiding them inside his text book pretending as if he is reading class text book. Initially I ignore thinking that it may due to his transition to adulthood. But it becomes a regular habit for him to bring these magazines. I thought that it is time for me to step in and stop his activities. If he was reading openly in all probability I would not have bothered but hiding inside the book displayed his negative characters like fear and guiltiness. If these characteristic was not nipped in the bud it could certainly ruin his career. 

It was a Saturday night around 8 p.m. I found Raju was reading his filthy magazine as usual. I went behind his chair and pulled out the magazine and threw it on the floor. For a moment he was perplexed and somehow adjusted himself and said sorry. 

"I was watching you for the past one month. What did you gain by reading these magazines? Lost your sense or what? How will you fare in the examinations if you continue to read these filthy magazines? " 

He was keeping quiet for a few minutes.

"Why don't you answer my questions" asked him again.

"I am sorry mummy I will not bring these magazines again. I did not buy these My friends gave it to me. He got it from a circulation library. After reading one issue I got addicted to read more issues and I was curious to view female bodies" he said.

I felt sympathy for him and as long as the suppressed feelings remains in his mind any amount of scolding to bring him to a controlled atmosphere will not help. He will always tempted to view these magazines may be outside home. 

I wanted to remove his negative characters and help him to focus his attention towards his studies. 

"You are curious to see a female body is n't it " I asked him.

"I myself do not know why I have so much curiosity to view female bodies." he replied.

"O.K. come on I will help you. " I told him.

Put off the light come with me and let us have a cup of coffee.

I went to the kitchen prepared a coffee for both of us.

It is already quarter past nine. "Let us got to bed room" I said

I put my hands on his waist and proceeded to the bed room.

On reaching the bed room I moved my hands from his waist and removed my nightie and threw it on the floor. I was completely naked. 

"Well look this is the female body and you can clear your curiosity".

Raju showed little fear and he was trembling for a while.

"Have no fear," I said to him.

"Can I touch, "he asked.

"Sure you can. " I whispered.

He began to touch me. Starting with my belly, he moved on to my nipples. He was moaning softly and whispered that I am too good to him. When he started to move his hands down towards my pussy, he moved away and turned towards me. He then took my face in my his hands and proceeded to kiss me on the lips. 

Feeling his mothers tongue in his mouth was truly the most erotic feeling that he had even experienced in his life. Minutes later, he broke the kiss and started to move his hands down towards my thigh. He then clipped my clit with his index finger and thumb. He asked whether he can insert his fingers inside me. 

"Go ahead if you want" I said.

Mean time he felt wetness in his fingers. 

"Mummy I am also getting such sticky liquid in my cock" He dropped his pajama and there he showed his dangling erect virgin cock.

I was embarrassed to view his cock. After all I have only given birth to him, given my milk and then see him grow.

I sat on the bed and took him over me as I lied down on my back.

"Shall I insert my cock," he asked.

I felt embarrassing to give any reply.

"Uh huh." Is all I could say.

With all his strength penetrated my slit with his virgin cock.. He started moving his cock like a piston for a while. Then he pumped his hot liquid inside my cunt. All his suppressed feelings gushed out of him. His temperature increased astonishingly and inhaling and exhaling of his breath became faster and faster. I gripped my hands with his back.

It took him a few minutes for him to come to the normal stage. He started kissing my forehead and moved his lips towards my mouth and went down to suck my nipples. I allowed him to do whatever he wanted.

When he became tired I told him to go and wash his body and sleep peacefully with me in my bed. Afterwards I also took a shower.

Both of us slept in the same bed.

Around 4 next morning he got up and went to the toilet and I too got us and put on the bedroom light and tried to sleep he again.

Raju returned soon and he was staring at my body again. I could see his protruding rod in erect position. 

"You want to play," I asked him.

He nodded his head giving a positive response.

"Go ahead then" I told him.

I got up and undressed myself and lied down on my back in the bed.

He too undressed quickly. This time he was not having any fear. As usual started kissing my forehead and moved his hands towards my breasts and started mauling them slowly. The long time without a man in my life, I was getting aroused. I knew that this was only to give him a lesson I life. But I was slowly becoming part of the lesson.

I no longer wanted to be just a silent spectator. The arousal that flowed from my wet pussy to my erect nipples was overtaking me. I began to co-operate and respond to him. We became intense lovers. I inserted my tongue inside his mouth and kissed his cheeks.

His hands went bit down towards my belly and thigh. He combed my bush with his fingers and I encouraged him to do further. His fingers touched my clitoris and I felt a shiver inside my body. Fingers moved further down and wet themselves.

From my side I started to stroke his virgin rod and caressed his entire body with burning fire.

Finally he settled down for a second assault towards my cunt. The assault went on for a while with both of us lost in the intense battle. This time as well the battle did not last very long. He pumped the remaining hot liquid inside me, filling me to the brim. He was inhaling and exhaling rapidly. His body became like a finishing athlete at the finishing point of the fast sprint.

When everything was over I told him now that he had everything as imagined and it is time for him to focus his attention towards his studies. He can resume his play every week end with me. During the week days he should study well.

He smiled and kissed me back. 

As I expected he changed himself and fared very well in his semester examinations.

We continued our every week end. When he finished his B.E. as promised I gave him a car and got him married to a good girl from our community.



Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 01



Note all characters in this story are over 18-years-old. There are no underage characters in this story. James is 20-years-old and his mother is 40-years-old.

A mother wants her son in a forbidden, incestuous way. 

Much worse than being raped by a stranger, after being separately and sexually abused, first by my uncle and then by my cousin when I was only an 18-years-old virgin, I was a basket case. Bad enough for the sexual abuse to happen once, but when it happened again, I was beside myself with anger, shame, and rage. I felt so stupid to trust my uncle. I felt even worse to trust my cousin and to go to him alone. Inviting me over to his apartment to discuss the incident, his way of diffusing what happened and dissuading me from reporting his father to the authorities, I thought my cousin was consoling me for what his father did. Instead, as his father did before him, he was intent on having his wicked way with me too.

"How could I be a part of such a fucked up family, but I was."

After being groped and kissed before being forced to strip naked and forced to suck them and to fuck them, I swore that incestuous abuse would never happen to my children should I ever have children. Only, even if I didn't do the dirty deed and never did the dirty deed myself, I broke my promise to myself by incestuously lusting over my 20-year-old son. After putting what happened behind me, more than twenty years later, I never thought I'd be a woman who'd lust over her own, grown, adult son but I do.

"What's wrong with me? A forty-year-old woman who's already been down that incestuous path as a victim is now walking the same road as a sexual predator. I should know better but I don't."

Even after years of psychological therapy, I thought I was over what happened to me but I'm not. I'm still suffering the side effects and related consequences of being the target of my relatives incestuous lust for me. It was their sexual desire for me that made them cross the incestuous line to kiss me, touch me, strip me, and have sex with me. It was their incestuous actions that has made me who I am today, a twisted, dysfunctional, and angry middle aged woman. So very angry, I'm still too angry to maintain a normal, sexual and intimate relationship with a man. Two decades later, even though I thought I survived the experience of being used and abused incestuously, there were unknown, maladjusted repercussions that hadn't surfaced yet, that is, until now. For one, I'm an exhibitionist.

So? What's wrong with being an exhibitionist? Being that women enjoy wearing skin tight clothes that show nipples and camel toes, and enjoy wearing short skirts, low cut tops, bikinis, and sheer, sexy nightgowns, aren't all women exhibitionist? Being that most men are voyeurs, no doubt, men would be happy that I'm an exhibitionistic woman who enjoys exposing her body to men. Instead of helping me to understand the underlying reasons why I feel the need to expose myself, whether by their words, their stares, their leers, or their actions, they encourage me to expose myself. Alas, as if is with everything else in life, it's up to me to get the help that I need.

Only, most times, thinking that I'm a normal, sexual woman with an overactive libido who enjoys flashing her body, I don't see that there's anything wrong with me. Then whenever I think about having sex with my adult son, I don't feel that I'm a normal, sexual woman with an overactive libido who enjoys flashing her body. Instead, I think of myself as an incestuous, flashing slut. 

"An exhibitionist? What's wrong with that? Take something off and show me some part of your body that I shouldn't see. I love up skirts and down blouses," say the average, horny male.

Only, they're oblivious to all the sexual peculiarities and peccadilloes that go along with having the uncontrollable need to be an exhibitionist and the unstoppable urges that are behind my need to expose myself. No doubt, because of what happened to me so very long ago, I enjoy flashing my body to unsuspecting men, that is, so long as my flashing appears accidental. Teasing men by flaunting my sexy, shapely body to them, whenever confronted by men for my exhibitionism, I immediately play the part of the accosted, innocent virgin.

"Me? Flash you? How dare you! I did no such thing. What? You peeped at my panties. Pervert! What? You leered down my blouse. How dare you! You're the pervert and not me. Help! Police! Rape!"

In a much different category than the man who wears a raincoat with nothing else beneath it, I have more class and more self-respect than that. Moreover, I'm not driven to flash just anyone. Once I grew out of the need to flash all of my family, my friends, and strangers coming to my house or meeting by chance on the street, the mall, and on the subway, I'm more selective who I flash now. The flashing that I did early on and the flashing that I did daily, multiple times a day, albeit always with an internal struggle and sometimes with great restraint, has changed from flashing many men to flashing just a few select men a few times a year.

Every time I flashed someone I felt bad about myself. I felt dirty. I felt perverted. I felt that there was something really wrong with me, that is, until I masturbated over all the men who saw my panties, my bra, my pussy, and/or my tits. Then, I was ready for the next time to flash again.

Yet, in thinking about why I do the things that I do, it occurred to me that there's a common thread between those who have been incestuously abused and those who haven't. Those strippers, exotic dancers, prostitutes, porn stars, deviates, perverts, even readers of erotica, and writers of pornography, more often than not, have had incestuous sex. I know because I've taken my personal, albeit unofficial poll and have asked the probing questions that so many don't want to answer but who will answer me, a survivor of incestuous, sexual abuse.

Whether the aggressor of the victim, with much of it swept beneath that carpet, too embarrassed and too ashamed to come forward, unless wearing a hockey goalie's mask and disguising their voice, few admit to having had an incestuous, sexual relationship. Unfortunately and undoubtedly, admittedly or not, and whether we remember it or not, we've all been bitten by a sexual vampire one time or another. We're all a twisted lot jumbled into a tightly fisted ball of always wanting sex, sex, and more sex. By not saying no to the Devil, we've all been enlisted to continue the Devil's work. We're all doomed. When it comes to sex, even those holier than thou preachers who preach the gospel while holding out their hand for money, before succumbing to the devil, are tempted and perverted by sex.

Sex sells. Sex is what we all want to read. Sex is what we all want to watch. Sex is what we all want to have with our spouses, significant others, the girl or boy next door, our neighbors' spouses, our friends' sons and daughters, and celebrities. We want to fuck the world and if we all could, we would. The only thing that stops us from being totally out of control with sex is money and lack thereof. If only we had more money, we'd have more sex. Sex and money go together in the way of milk and honey. Show me the money and I'll give you the sex.

"Heaven help us. God have mercy on our souls for we're only weak humans. Dear God in Heaven save me from myself. Give me peace."

Even after my uncle and cousin apologized to me, knowing they weren't really weren't sorry for what they did to me, undoubtedly, seeing the incestuous lust in their eyes by their unbroken stares of my clothed breasts, ass, and pussy, they'd ravish me again, if given the chance. Just as I can't help myself now in lusting over my son, they couldn't help themselves then in lusting over me. Being that I didn't know then what I know now, I should have known that for them to have been incestuous aggressors, they were incestuous victims themselves once too.

Nonetheless their hollow and insincere apologies, I had to forgive them to move forward with my life. I had to think of myself and forget about them. Yet, with no going back and with no erasing from my mind what they had done to me, the real damaged was already done. Tit for tat, they ruined my life and I ruined their life by reporting them, having them arrested, and incarcerated. Now that they wear the label of shame of sex offender for the rest of their miserable lives, I feel some consolation and justice.

"How dare they! Why did they do that to me?"

"Get over it," said Dr. Phil to a incestuously abused woman about being sexually assaulted and brutalized by her father and brother.

Easy for him to say. Unlike Oprah who's been through Hell and back with all the incestuous experiences she's had, he's lived a charmed existence compared to the rest of us who have been sexually used and incestuously abused. What the Hell does he know? Just ask a trained psychiatrist who's a medical doctor what he or she thinks about Dr. Phil's off-the-cuff, instant diagnosis of people coming on his show that he's met for the first time. Dr. Phil isn't even a real doctor. He's merely a psychologist. In the vein of Dr. Ruth, Dr. Joyce Brothers, and Dr. Joy Browne, they'll just celebrity psychologists there to entertain us on radio and television.

I don't care what Dr. Phil says, there's no coming back from what happened to me. Having changed me and my life, I can't get over something that is now a part of me. I'm not the person I was. I'm not the person I could have been. They destroyed that person and replaced her with me, someone else and someone who is always angry, sad, crying, and depressed. Scratch the surface and my bad side emerges. Scratch the surface and I want to flash unsuspecting men my naked and semi-naked body. Scratch the surface and I want to suck my son and fuck my son. Scratch the surface and in the way that I have incestuous lust for my son, I'm no different than my uncle and my cousin in having incestuous lust for me.

"Woe is me. Poor, poor, pitiful Susan."

I was at a loss to understand before, what was happening to me and why it was happening to me, when my uncle and cousin sexually used and abused me as if I was a common whore in the street instead of their lovely niece and their beloved cousin. After experiencing the uncontrollable urge to have incestuous sex myself with my son and temporarily over the lust that I suddenly had for him, I understand now.

"I get it. I really do."

Turned into a delirious, diabolical demon, I was a werewolf howling at a full moon or a vampire seething uncontrollably when seeing a drop of blood. The strong draw of incestuous lust that still stirs my soul and surges deep inside of me makes me want to have sex with my own, flesh and blood, my 20-year-old son in the way that incestuous lust must have made my uncle and cousin want to have sex with me, an 18-years-old virgin.

"God help me! Give me the strength to stop my incestuous desire for my son."

My uncle and cousin didn't even try to control their twisted urges in the way that I have worked to control mine with therapy, introspection, prayer, and drugs. They never sought the help that I sought for their incestuous demons, not that the help that I was given did any good, but the psychological therapy helped me to understand that I wasn't a monster. I was just an exhibitionist, incestuous slut driven to expose myself and driven to have sex with my son. Ah, I feel better, not really, not at all. The shame, the rage, and the sadness makes me wish I had never been born, never mind having been incestuously, sexually abused.

Yet, I wonder, if because of what happened to me, as if being bitten by a sexual vampire, if I was doomed to repeat the incestuous, sexual experience myself with my son. Maybe just as my uncle and cousin didn't have control over their dark monster, I too have no control over my dark monster either. Beyond being a cougar, being that my son is half my age, beyond being an exhibitionist, being that I enjoy flashing my body, and beyond being an incestuous slut, being that I want to incestuously and sexually experience my son, I'm a degenerate mother. Susan the incestuous pervert, how dare I lust over my only child? How could I dare contemplate putting my son through all the pain and all the suffering that I've experienced while being so damn angry and so damn miserable?

Perhaps, when it comes to thoughts of incest or any sexual thoughts for that matter, it's different for a man than it is for a woman. Nonetheless whether it's different for a man or not, I mask my incestuous feelings with self imposed and self manufactured justification to make myself believe that I'm allowed my incestuous transgressions against my son, my own blood related relative. Always with my guilty conscience making me feel bad about myself, I'm not kidding anyone, especially myself into thinking that I'm not the same incestuous monster that my uncle and cousin are.

My deplorable thoughts that manifest my incestuous feelings and actions are still there to keep me honest albeit tortured. Yet, tied to my past as if it's an anchor around my neck, weighing me down and waiting to sink me in the dark abyss of incestuous sex, just as incestuous sex happened to me, I realize that it's only a matter of time before I seduce my son. Because of the sexually depraved mother that I've become, it's only a matter of time before I turn my son into the wicked person that I am by biting him with my incestuous bug.

"How dare I think that I could change! How dare I think that I could get over it! I can't."

From that first time I was bitten by an incestuous, sexual predator, incest has always had a strangle hold over me. I couldn't save myself from drowning in an incestuous sea if I was wearing a life vest given to me by God himself and if I was in a lifeboat with Saint Peter and Archangel Michael. With no turning back, once I've traveled that incestuous path, be it victim or predator, I'm doomed to dance with the Devil to his delight."

Using justification as my way to make something so dirty, so disgusting, and so vile more palatable, perhaps, a son having sex with his mother, instead of an uncle having sex with his niece and a cousin forcing himself on an innocent virgin, isn't as terrifying as a mother seducing her son. I don't know. I'd have to ask a man who's already traveled this slippery slope before. Yet, for me to ask anyone for helpful advice, I'd have to speak the unspeakable and mention the unmentionable. I'd actually have to say the word...incest. I'd have to give light to all that I'm thinking when having such incestuous thoughts about wanting to have sex with my son.

"God help me. I'm so tortured. I'm so broken. Why me? Except for the incestuous lust that I harbor for my son, I'm so good otherwise."

As part of my twisted justification to cross the incestuous line and have sex with my son, perhaps, I hope, cherishing the fond memories of our sexual union together in bed naked, my son would wear our incestuous, sexual relationship as a badge of honor for the rest of his life. Making him into a man, perhaps, my son would be proud to have had sex with his mother. Perhaps, incestuous sex for the male of the species is a rite of passage that he must take and must be traveled before he can be deemed a man. All through literature there are plenty of references to a mother taking her son to her bed, a mother having sex with her son, and a mother marrying her son.

Why should I think I'm any different in wanting my son than Helen was in Pendennis or Hamlet's mother, Queen Gertrude was with her incestuous relationships? In wanting to have sex with my son, I'm no different than the mother was in Spanking the Monkey. I'm not any different from them. A no one and a nothing, why should I think that I'm special in thinking that I'm strong enough to control my incestuous urges and deny my incestuous lust?

"I can't. I'm weak. I'm doomed."

I wish I had a man to ask the question. I wish I had a man to want me, love me, and pleasure me so that I'd stop thinking about wanting to make love to my son. Must men fuck their mothers before they can cut the apron ties to have a loving relationship with a woman or is it just the opposite? If a son has sex with his mother, tied to her forever, can he never enjoy a normal relationship with a woman? Quite the paradox and quite the dichotomy, having sex with one's own mother is something that Dr. Sigmund Freud would love to analyze again I'm sure, if he were still alive. I'm not smart enough to analyze my thoughts and motives, but even greater minds than mine have fallen victim to incest.

"What should I do? What should I do? I wish I had someone to help me, to guide me, and to tell me what to do so that I wouldn't do what I really want to do and that's to have sex with my son."

Who am I kidding? Whether mother and son, uncle and niece, or even cousin with cousin, color it anyway one wants by spinning it with distorted justification, incest is incest. Having said that, having held incest up to the light of day and defined it, examined it, and rejected it before embracing it, I yearn to have incestuous sex with my son. For all that I've done to raise him, that one foul ingredient in our mother and son loving relationship shouldn't ruin everything I've worked so hard to have with him. Yet, I'm afraid it would and I'm afraid it will if, indeed, I cross that incestuous line and play in the Devil's playground with my son.

"Please God give me the strength to keep my legs and my mouth closed and to say no. I shall not leer at him with my eyes. I shall not touch him with my hand. I shall not take him in my mouth, my ass, and my pussy. Only, dear God in Heaven, you must help me to stay strong against the Devil."

Behind closed bedroom doors, there are so many incestuous, sexual relationships happening after all. Then multiple all of those incestuous, sexual relationships by all of those incestuous thoughts that men have towards their mothers, sisters, daughters, and cousins, and that women have towards their fathers, brothers, sons, and cousins. Whether we do the dirty deed or just think about doing the dirty deed, we're a country drowning in incestuous sex. As if fearing to mention the Devil's name for the perceived terror that we're opening our minds, our hearts, and our souls to the Dark Angel, too many men and women never speak of the unspeakable and mention the unmentionable. Forever playing the righteous one and the ones without sins, we all keep our incestuous thoughts to ourselves while thinking they are sufficiently hidden, albeit so transparently displayed in our glass houses.

We are all idiots to think we're strong when we're not. We're weak. Just as a man cannot fight his incestuous desire to have sex with his mother, his sister, his daughter, and his cousin, neither can a woman fight her incestuous desire to have sex with her father, her brother, her son, and her cousin. Being that we're all so wicked, we're all so doomed.

"Boy, I'd love to fuck her," said father. "Look at my daughter shaking her tight, little ass while bouncing her perky tits."

"Boy, I'd like to suck him," said mother. "Look at my son parading around with his swollen erection while teasing me with his ass."

A never ending cycle of debauchery and shame, are those who have experienced incestuous sex as victims all doomed to repeat the process as predators? Is the reason why I expose myself because I was the victim of incestuous sex? Most definitely, I do. Do I have thoughts of seducing my son because my uncle and cousin deflowered me? Probably, I do. Do I think that I have the strength to break the cycle and just say no to incest? Probably, I don't.

Why must my incestuous thoughts overpower me and paralyze me in the way that they do. Helpless not to ponder them, I'm helpless not to act upon them. I'm even helpless to block them from my mind, once I allow them to creep in as if oil oozing through a leak. Just as I can't help myself from thinking of holding, kissing, touching, feeling, sucking, and fucking my son, I can't help but think of my son holding me, kissing me, touching me, feeling me, licking me, and fucking me. I want him. I must have him.




Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 01



"Oh, God, give me the strength to say no for I am destined to lead my son astray down that dark road that I never wanted to take but was forced to travel."

As if being bitten by a sexual vampire, no doubt, my uncle and cousin helped to make me into the sexual predator that I am today. Having never even seen a cock, never mind touched a cock until that fateful day, they forced me to touch their cocks, hold their cocks, stroke their cocks, and suck their cocks before fucking their cocks. Now that I know all the damage that happened to me, am I willing to pervert my son for the sake of my selfish sexual satisfaction? Looking for a shred of justification, being that I've experienced the twisted lust called incest from both sides, I should know better but don't. Instead, I tell myself that it's just as much my son's fault for teasing me as it is my fault for teasing him. I tell myself lies for the comfort for me not to think that I'm the incestuous slut that I am. By justifying the incestuous act as the right thing to do, I lie to myself so that I'll have sex with my son.

"How dare I! I'm no good. I'm evil," I whispered to myself so that my son, James, wouldn't hear his mother chastising herself as he slept on the couch before me.

Wearing just a light, thin, tee shirt and pajama bottoms without underwear, clearly, I could see the outline of his cock. Unable to stop myself from staring at his bulging prick, he was starting to get an erection.

To be continued...



Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 02



Chapter 02

Showtime! James flashes his leering mother his erect cock.

Every night it's the same sexual show. Even after having seen his cock so many nights before, looking forward to seeing his cock again, every night he holds my attention as if seeing his sexy show for the first time. The first time I saw his cock, I was stunned. I was embarrassed. After not having had sex for a while, admittedly, I was sexually excited even if it was my own son's prick.

Then, over time, having grown not only accustomed to seeing his errant, erect cock but also looking forward to seeing his errant erect cock, intent of having the sexy sight of my son's big prick do something for me, I decided to enjoy the sexy how. Sitting back in the comfort of my overstuffed chair, away from his line of sight and out of view from his peripheral vision, whenever he flashed me his cock whether purposely or accidentally, I fingered my nipples and gently rubbed my clit through my nightgown while watching him sleep. Knowing that he's right there sleeping is even more sexually arousing than just imagining him while masturbating. If he awakened and turned his head, he'd catch me masturbating myself.

What would I say if he caught me fingering my nipples and rubbing my clit? What would I do if he caught me masturbating? Would he offer me his hand, his mouth, and his cock? Or would we just sit there with him staring at me while touching myself while I stared at his exposed prick. The only thing stopping me from having sex with him is because I'm his mother and he's my son. If we weren't blood related, I would have seduced him a long time ago.

"I want him," I mumble to myself while wishing his fingers were touching me instead of my own. "I have to have him," I move my lips in a hushed, silent whisper for no one to hear but myself. "I love watching his long, thick cock grow so hard in his thin pajama bottom. As if I'm holding him, I can just feel him growing hard in my hand. As if I'm sucking him, I can just feel him pulsate in my mouth. As if I'm making love to him, I can just feel him fucking me."

As if I've never watched him sleep before, I watch him sleeping so soundly on the couch now. Where did the time go? More than twenty years later, after the birth of him, he grew to be such a beautiful man. He looks older than twenty. If I saw him on the street, I'd think he was at least 25-years-old. Not that long ago, it seems as if he was just a beautiful, little boy, my son the doctor, the lawyer, and the engineer. Now, my son the college student, when did he grow to be such a beautiful man? How did he grow to be such a beautiful man and where was I when he was growing so strong, so handsome, and so muscular? When did I start having incestuous thoughts of him being my sexual partner instead of my son? Where did he get such a hot body, a body that any woman would want to take to her bed, even his sexually, frustrated mother?

"God help me. I'm crazy with incestuous desire for him," I whisper under my breath while fondling my big tit and fingering my nipple as if my hand and fingers were his hand and fingers.

I created him. I conceived him. I birthed him and I raised him. Besides his father, I'm the one responsible for him being here. It's all my fault for having a son instead of a daughter. What should have been a shared responsibility, had my husband not gone and died on me, I probably wouldn't be lusting over my son in the way that I do now. With all that happened to me in my past, I should have known that I shouldn't have had children. Unable to break the cycle, I should have known that having been a victim of incest would turn me into a predator of incest. I'm so crazy mad in my desire for my son. It's not normal for a mother to want her son in a sexual way but apparently I'm not normal because I do want my son.

Alas, if I were God showering me with the man of my dreams, I couldn't have created a better man for myself than my son. As if he was my beloved husband, John, twenty years ago, seeing my son now is as if reliving my life when I first married his father. It's not fair that I should be so sexually attracted to my son. It's not fair that I be subjected to the incestuous temptation of him.

"I miss you John. I'll always love you John. Forgive me for lusting over our son, but a grieving widow, I need the loving comfort my son has to give, if only he would," I mouthed the words without saying them for fear of awakening my sleeping son. "What's so wrong with a mother wanting to sexually comfort her son? I wish I could touch him. I wish I could hold his big cock in my hand while stroking him. I wish I could suck him. I wish I could fuck him."

For sure, not wanting him to know that he's so exposed and not wanting him to know that I stare at his erect cock every night, I don't want to ruin his nightly show of exhibitionism and my favorite show of voyeurism. Watching his cock grow in magnificent erected splendor is one of the few things that I so look forward to seeing every night. Usually the other way around with the woman being the exhibitionist and the man being the voyeur, in the case of my son, our roles are reversed. Perhaps because of what happened to me, my whole life has gone haywire with the lust that I now harbor for my son.

Little did I know, all this time the answer to my dreams and sexual fantasies was right there sleeping before me on the couch, while I mindlessly watched television and pretended not to notice him. Who knew? In the way of a man not noticing a stripper stripping off her clothes on stage, how could I not notice him? There was no way that I couldn't lust over him especially when he started flashing me his cock whether accidentally or purposefully.

I had hot flashes every time he held me, hugged me, and gave me a peck on the lips while wishing he'd part my lips with his tongue and kiss me, really kiss me. I dream of my son French kissing me, his mother, while touching me, feeling me, and caressing me. Tempted to find out, I wondered what he'd do if I parted his lips with my tongue? I wondered what he'd do if I put his hand upon my breast through my blouse and bra, and force my tongue in his mouth while reaching down to feel and fondle his cock growing hard through his pants. Would he embrace me or push me away?

Would he surrender his tongue to me and return my kiss? Or would he recoil and admonish me for trying to French kiss my own son while having him feel me as I groped him? Dizzy with incestuous delirium with the mere thoughts of having incestuous sex with my son, I think of having sex with no other man but my son. Even though I question my desire for him daily and even though I try to control my incestuous thoughts by trying not to have them and berating myself when I do, I have no answers for my inappropriate attraction to him, only more questions?

Why can't I have him? When can I have him? Why must I wait so long to have sex with my son? How can I seduce him? Would he be agreeable to my sexual advances or would he think of me as a dirty, old woman? I don't know. I don't know. I just don't know and will never know until one of us crosses the incestuous line.

"How dare I! What's wrong with me to lust over my own son?" I mumble to myself. "Reincarnated in a female body, I've grown to be just as twisted as my uncle and cousin. For sure, if I were his father and he were my daughter, I would have raped her by now. The only reason why I have any restraint at all is because I'm a mature, loving woman and not a testosterone filled, animal of a man."

Only, I can't help myself any longer from wanting to be with my man of a boy naked and in bed. With such a beautiful body and the same handsome face of his father staring back at me, he is if his father never died. He is the reason why I cannot get over my grief. In the body of my son, my husband is still here, healthy, alive, and still with me.

In the very way I was sexually attracted to his father, why wouldn't I be sexually attracted to my son? Just as my uncle and cousin taught me about sex, I'd love to teach my son about sex too. I know my son is a virgin, I can tell. A mother always knows. I'd love to be the first one to gently ease him into the world of sexual intimacy and lustful love before letting him go to find the woman of his dreams. I'd love to teach him all that a woman wants from a man when making love.

It's foolish for me to even think that I'm the woman of his dreams. How can I be? I'm his mother. Someone who looks like him can have any woman. Why would he want me? If anything, being the exhibitionist and incestuous slut that I am, I'm the woman of his nightmares instead of the woman of his dreams.

Yet aside from who I am, his mother, and who he is, my son, I can't help myself from thinking what it would be like to kiss him, to touch him, to feel him, and to fondle him in a sexual way. I'd love to feel his cock grow hard in my hand while staring at it and running my fingers over the head of his hard prick. I'd love to feel his cock stiffen in my mouth while I look up at him with the love that only a mother can give her son. I'd love to feel his cock buried deep inside me while pulsating in my pussy as he humped me and I humped him until we developed a rhythm and started fucking, really fucking, instead of making love and before making love again. Doing it all over again, I yearn to be with my son intimately, sexually, and incestuously forever and always.

"Only, I can't do that and, definitely, I shouldn't do that to him. How can I seduce my own son? How can I pressure him to make love to me? I must control myself. I must be the strong one. I must be the mature one. I'm his mother for God's sakes. Still, I'd love to give him as much pleasure as he'd no doubt give me," I say while whispering my incestuous lust for no one to hear, not even my son, but me.

Only, admittedly and unabashedly, I couldn't help myself from noticing him, especially after he developed an erection as he slept. His cock gets so big. His cock gets so hard. His father developed numerous erections during the night and I loved how his cock poked me in the ass when we spooned. Sometimes, I'd touch his cock while he slept. Once I masturbated while he was sleeping. He never awakened. Another time, every man's fantasy, I sucked his cock as he slept. Only, as he was cumming in my mouth, as he took my face in his hand before placing a gentle hand behind my head to hump my mouth and fuck my face, he called out his mother.

"I love you Mommy," he said in his sleep.

I love you Mommy? Shocked, I was baffled that he'd call out his mother's name as I sucked his cock and as he was cumming in my mouth. Was he calling me Mommy or was he calling his mother Mommy? Now suspect, especially with the incestuous background that I had, did his mother ever suck his cock or did he always wish his mother would suck his cock?

The next day, after he awakened and after I confessed that I sucked him in his sleep, I asked him why he'd call out his mother's name. A single, lonely, and sexually frustrated mother, he told me that he too was the victim of incestuous incest when his mother gave him regular hand jobs and blowjobs after he satisfied her incestuous lust for her son with his fingers and tongue. So I'm not the only one. Being that incest runs on both side of the family, what choice do I have than to seduce my son as my mother seduced her son.

"Wow, even my husband experienced his mother sexually," I said to myself after he told me.

Then, when I was alone with my bad self and masturbating while thinking of my mother having sex with my husband, I transposed my mother-in-law with the image of me and my husband with the image of my son. While fingering my nipples and rubbing my clit, I imagined sucking and fucking my son. Then, when my husband died, alone with my son and my bad thoughts, my lust for my son grew in relationship to my loneliness and grief.

As if watching a flower bloom in fast forward motion, I first noticed my son's prick when it grew to a slight bulge in his pajama bottom. Exciting for me to watch his prick develop from a soft, small lump to something so hard and so big, watching his cock grow and harden made me feel horny and sexy. My incestuous, sexual fantasy come true, I wish I could feel his cock growing in my hand and/or growing in my mouth. Watching his cock stiffen made me touch myself and being that he was flashing me his erection, albeit through his pajamas, I wanted to return the favor by flashing him my tits, my nipples, and the dark, blonde impression my pubic hair made through my thin, nearly transparent nightgown. Definitely, he has his father's big cock.

Mesmerized by the slow movement of it, as if his growing prick was a snake ready to arise from his pajama bottoms, I watched his cock slowly slide and make its way across his hard belly. Hoping I wouldn't awaken him but knowing, somehow, that I would if I dared touch him, I so wanted to reach out my hand and touch his cock, feel his cock, and stroke his cock, before taking his cock in my mouth to suck his cock. It was then that I wondered if I drugged him with sleeping pills, as my way of having my wicked way with him without him knowing that I had my wicked way with him, if he'd still get an erection. I may have to mix the sleeping pills with Viagra for my incestuous plan to work. Alas, relegated to watching his prick grow bigger and harder while not touching his cock, I watched his cock pulsate in the way that I imagined his penis throbbing in my hand, my mouth, and my pussy.

As if he was a CFNM dancer, oh such a sexy show he gives me, his horny, sexually frustrated, incestuous slut of a mother, I couldn't wait to take him in my mouth to suck him and to make him cum. Shooting cum all over my hair, my face, and my breasts, I imagined my son giving me a cum bath. Bathing in his cum to signify his lust for me, his mother, if only he would, I'd be a happy woman.

I wondered if he called my bluff, what I'd do. Would I return his kiss and French kiss him if he parted my lips with his tongue? Would I allow him to feel my breasts while fingering my nipples, if he reached out his hands to fondle my big tits through my sheer nightgown. What would my reaction be to him feeling and squeezing my ass if he reached his hand around me and down? Would I allow him to reach his hand beneath my nightgown to cup my blonde, trim pussy and to finger me? Would I slap his hand away or would I return the incestuous favor and feel his cock through his pants? Honestly, all he'd have to do is to feel my big tits while fingering my hard nipples and I'm his. With my nipples my erogenous zones and my gateway to my sexual arousal, if he fingered my nipples while kissing me, I'd do anything he'd want me to do, even suck his cock.

How far would I go? I didn't know and wouldn't know until something more happened between us than watching his cock grow to an erection while he slept. Would I allow him to unbutton my blouse and feel my breast while fingering my nipples through my bra as he kissed and kissed me? Would I allow him to lift up my bra and expose my breasts to his horny eyes or, being that I'm his mother, would I struggle and resist his hands touching me, fondling me, feeling me, and caressing me before surrendering to him? Being that I'm an exhibitionist, I'd love to show my son my topless or naked body. Being that I'm an incestuous predator, I'd have sex with my son but, unable to cross the line first, he'd have to take the first step to go where no son should lead his mother. Once he did that, I'd lead the way and take control of the sexual situation.

Being that I'd love to strip him naked, would I allow him to strip me naked too? Then, once naked, would I allow him to force me down on the bed and finger my pussy before licking my pussy? Would I allow my son to make love to me before fucking me, really fucking me? Making myself crazy with incestuous lust, I'm getting aroused just thinking about my son having his wicked way with my naked body as he slept so soundly on the couch. If only he would and if only I could, I'd be so happy.

Then, there, right there, out of the corner of my eye, I caught more movement of his cock. He must be having a sexual dream. In the way that my husband dreamt about his mother sexually blowing him when I blew him in his sleep, I wondered if my son was dreaming about me sucking him. Then, as if by my horny stare, as if my blue eyes were a snake charmer and was charming his personal, pet snake, I watched his cock move more. Gradually my son's cock moved higher while stiffening harder. His cock continued growing, until he had a massive erection. Now with his cock tenting his pajama bottoms I could see the side of his big prick and his dark patch of pubic hair through the opening in his pajama. As if teasing me, it was so sexually exciting it was to see bits and pieces of his erect cock.

I couldn't help myself from fingering my nipples again. If only he'd suck my tits. I couldn't help myself from rubbing my clit. If only he'd lick my pussy while finger fucking my pussy and before fucking my pussy with that big, hard cock of his. I was so tempted to reach my hand inside his pajama and wrap my fingers around his erection. Only, what if he awakened and caught me holding his cock? What would I do? What would I say?

In the way it happened last night, the night before, and the night before that, I hoped beyond hope that his big prick would find its way out of his pajamas. A mother's comfort and a mother's pride and joy, my horny eyes wanted to see his erect cock again. I wanted to stare at it again while fingering my nipples and rubbing my clit. I wanted the sight of his stiff prick to inspire my sexual fantasies and sexy dreams about having sex with my son tonight as it did last night and the night before. I wish I were a contestant on one of those Japanese game shows where a son must guess his mother's breasts, ass, and pussy against two other woman before a mother must guess her son's cock from two other men. I'd so love to play that sexy, incestuous game.

"Oh, my God, I'd be in Heaven playing that game," I whispered.

Giving me something to masturbate over later, I'd love to see his big cock again. Only, wishing I could hold his prick in my hand, alas, I can't. I'm his mother and he's my son. Yet, every night, we watch TV together and, just like his father, he falls asleep on the couch. Every night he gets an erection and every night, as if he's a CFNM dancer, his engorged prick gives me a late night, sexy show of his erection when it emerges from his pajama.

"God help me. I'd do anything to suck that monster. I'd do anything to suck that giant eel. I'd do anything to feel him inside of me."

Every time I see his cock, I wish I could touch his cock, suck his cock, and fuck his cock. A loving mother showing her son just how much she loves him by sucking him, what's so wrong with that? Why can't I blow my son? Why can't my son cum in my mouth? I'd do anything to swallow him while looking up at him with my big, blue eyes, as his steel pipe is buried in my mouth. Why can't my son make love to me? Why can't my son fuck me? 

Then, as if on cue, the head of his prick peeked out of the hole of his pajama bottoms as if an eel trying to escape it's cage. His cock slithered through the opening in his pajama a little more and a little more until as if is prick was the Phoenix arising that promises me a new sexual dawn with the hopefulness of having sex with my son, his cock pushed through his pee-hole opening. A work of art, my stone obelisk, something that I'm directly responsible in making, his cock is exquisitely beautiful. So proud of my son's big prick, I wish I could show his cock to all of my friends and relatives. Only, no doubt, they'd want him as much as I want him. Not one for sharing my son with anyone, he's all mine. When his cock finally made its appearance, as it does every night and as I do every night, I turned on the overhead light so that I could see him better as if he was a stripper on stage under the bright lights.




Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 02



"Showtime!"

To be continued... 




Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 03



Chapter 03

Taking the lead of inappropriateness, mother crosses the incestuous line. 

For me to suck and fuck his beautiful cock if only in my sleep when sexually fantasizing about sucking and fucking his cock, I needed to see it again. If I had a camera and knew that the flash wouldn't awaken him and embarrass the both of us, I'd take a picture of his magnificent prick. If I had a video camera, I'd take a video of his cock growing harder and bigger before popping out of his pajama bottoms as it did again. Now with the overhead light blazing in his eyes, he stirred but it was worth awakening him to see his big prick closer up and in the bright light again.

"Mom?" So enamored with his cock as if I was in a daze fingering my nipples and rubbing my clit through my nightgown, catching me by surprise, he looked back at me and nearly caught me masturbating. "What time is it?"

That would have been embarrassing if he had caught me masturbating or maybe subconsciously, I wanted him to catch me playing with myself. I'd love to masturbate together one day. I'd love for him to masturbate me while I masturbated him.

"It's after midnight," I said. He still had his eyes closed. I stood and walked over to him for a closer look of his exposed, erect dick without him seeing me staring, leering, and drooling over the sight of his big prick.

"How did it get so late? It was just ten o'clock," he said.

"You fell asleep," I said.

"I've been doing that a lot lately," he said. "I'm always so tired from school and work."

Already aroused and already wet from seeing his prick again while fingering my nipples and rubbing my clit again, my nipples were pushing against my nightgown and I knew by the focus stare of his eyes that he could clearly see them. As proud of my big nipples as I am of my big tits, I was glad that he obviously appreciated my tits and nipples as much as I did. Making me horny over all that I imagined he could see of me, he was looking at the impressions my nipples made in my nightgown. His stare sexually excited me that he could, no doubt, see the dark impressions my nipples made through the thin cotton material of my nightgown.

He was staring at my tits in the way I had been staring at his cock. He was sexually and incestuously lusting over me in the way I had been sexually and incestuously lusting over him. Being that it was late and I was so horny, desperately wanting to go to bed with him, I only wished he'd reach up and touch my tits before sucking my nipples. I'd love nothing more than to feel his hands and his lips on my breasts. Not wanting him to think of me as being the wicked incestuous bitch of a Mother, needing him to want me as much as I wanted him, I needed for him to make the first move.

"C'mon, it's time for bed," I said hoping he'd reach up his hand and feel me, touch me, and fondle my big breasts through my nightie.

I'd do anything for him to touch me. I don't anything for him to feel me. While laying there on the couch with me standing over him, I wondered if he could see my naked pussy up my short nightgown. I imagined he could. I imagined him sticking his hand beneath my nightgown and traveling up my shapely thigh before feeling me in between my legs. What would I do if he did that? Would I act shocked and surprised while stepping away from him or would I stand there and allow him to cup my naked pussy before fingering me?

Let me draw you a bath before bed, I wanted to say. As if you're my invalid patient and I'm your nurse, I'll wash your back, your chest, and your thighs while continuingly dropping the soap and searching for it between your legs. Allow me wash your dirty cock with my mouth, I wish I could have said. I'll come tuck you in, I wanted to say but I didn't say anything of those things.

While he was too busy staring at the impression my tits and erect nipples made in my nightgown, I was too busy staring at his exposed, erect prick. I was too preoccupied with the thoughts of having sex with my son. How dare I? How could I? What's wrong with me? I'm so immorally and immodestly wicked to be ogling my son in the way he's always ogled me.

"Okay," he said yawning and stretching

As soon as he closed his eyes again, I filled my horny eyes and overactive sexual brain with the sight of his erection again. His cock was so big. His cock was so hard. Once I stared long enough at it to record the image of it for later when I was alone and masturbating in my room, afraid that I could no longer control myself from touching his cock, stroking his cock, and sucking his cock, I jostled him again by pushing on his shoulder. Even though I so wanted to see it again and even though I was happy his cock was sticking out of his pajama bottoms, it was pure torture staring at his cock without being able to touch it, hold it, stroke it, suck it, and fuck it.

"James," I said no longer prolonging my moment of retiring him and his cock to bed. "C'mon, it's time for bed."

"Okay," he said again. "In a minute. I'm not sleeping. I'm just resting my eyes."

I sat back down in my chair again, only, this time, with my nightgown raised to mid thigh and my legs spread enough that when he turned his head to look at me, he'd have the perfect view of my pussy up my nightgown. When I said that it was time for bed, I imagined him retiring to my room. I imagined him climbing in bed with me. I imagined us kissing and touching before making love and before him spooning me while holding me and falling asleep.

I so wanted to touch him. I so wanted to feel him all over. I so wanted to wrap my fingers around him and stroke him. I so wanted to lean my head down and take him in my mouth. I wondered what he'd he say if I did that. I wondered what he'd do if I had done that. There's only one way to find out but I didn't dare have the perversity to lead my son down the dark path of incest and to play in the Devil's playground, not yet anyway.

"James," I said for the third time.

"Yes Mother?"

I wasn't going to say anything but, now or never, I was curious about his reaction to me knowing that I saw his cock. How hot is that to confront him with the fact that he's been flashing me? Holding the mirror up to him of a Mother having sex with her son, I wanted him to know that I've seen his erect cock.

"You're sticking out?" My last few seconds of seeing his cock before he put his beautiful toy away, I continued to stare.

"Sticking out?" He turned to look up at me but not before looking in between my legs at my exposed pussy. I saw him look and I knew he saw what I wanted him to see. Tit for that, if he was going to flash me his cock then I was going to flash him my pussy. I watched his cock pulsate in sexual delight at seeing his Mother's cunt. "What do you mean, sticking out?"

"Your penis is out of your pajamas. Your one eyed cock is staring right at me," I said with a laugh while giving him a Motherly smile.

"Oh, shit, sorry Mom," he said trying to bend his prick enough to stuff his cock back in his pajama bottom. Watching him struggle with his stiff prick while trying to bend his big prick to fit back in the small opening, I so wanted to help him by offering him my hand.

Not having considered it before, it was then that I wondered if he was flashing me his erect prick on purpose in the way that I was flashing him my naked pussy now. A Mother flashing her son and a son returning the favor by flashing his Mother, how perfect is that? Maybe he wanted me to see his cock as much as I wanted to see his cock. Maybe just as curious as I was to know what he'd do if I touched his cock, maybe he wanted to know what I do seeing his big prick?

Would I stare at his erection or would I look away? Would I touch him and take him in my hand to stroke him before taking him my mouth to suck and before accepting him in my pussy to fuck him? With my pussy in plain view too, would he stare at my cunt? Would he reach his hand in between my legs and touch me and finger me? I needed to know. With all of these thoughts going through my mind, he was my son, after all, and perhaps he was just as perverted as was his uncle, his cousin, and me, his Mother.

"It's okay," I said daring myself to confess my attraction to him and his beautiful cock. Sexually excited when I made my confession, I was glad that I told him how I really felt about seeing his prick. "You made a lonely, horny woman very happy," I said unable to let this opportunity pass me by as I have so many other times when he exposed himself to me whether accidental or on purpose.

How many times has he walked in on me while I was changing? How many times have I walked in on him while he was dressing? How many times has he walked in on me when I was showering on the pretense that he had to pee really bad. Knowing he'd come in the bathroom, I defogged the mirror so that he could see my naked body through the clear shower curtain by my reflection in the mirror. He must have drank a gallon of water because he always took a good, long look of my naked body while peeing.

"Mom! I'm so embarrassed and your cracking jokes," he said turning to look at my pussy again before looking up at my face. "I can't believe you saw my prick."

Tit for tat, I thought, pussy for cock. Incestuously daring myself to continue, I was on a role now. Dipping my toe in the deep, dark end of the incestuous pool, I was ready to dive in headlong if only he'd give me a gentle nudge. Ready to swim naked with him in forbidden waters, a sea where no Mother should swim with her son, I had enough of the sexy games of exhibitionism and voyeurism. I was ready to take the plunge and the next sexual step with my son, if only he was ready and if only he was willing.

"Who's joking? I've been horny ever since your father died. With you looking so much like your father, albeit a younger version of him," I said still staring at the huge erection his cock made in tenting his pajamas, "I found the sight of your erection sexually arousing. Then, when your cock popped out of your pajamas, I wanted to take you in my hand. I'm sorry, but I can't help myself from being sexually attracted to you? Incestuous thoughts between a Mother and son, albeit forbidden, are only normal. You can't judge me too harshly for only thinking what I'd love to do with you and your big prick," I said with a dirty laugh.

Oh my God. I did it now. I crossed the incestuous line and broke through the forbidden barrier. What have I done? Did I really confess my sexual attraction to my son? Never will our Mother and son relationship be the same. Nonetheless, glad that I started the ball rolling it was now or never. The ball is in his court now. Either he'd play my incestuous game by grabbing at the chance of having sex with me or he'd allow the opportunity I've given him to pass by pretending I never said that.

"Wait. Hold on. Back up?" Obviously he was taking the former path in exploring the possibility of having incestuous sex with me rather than the taking the latter route in ignoring all that I said. Recognizing the same look on his face that I see in my bathroom mirror when I'm horny, he looked at me with sexually excited wonderment. Suddenly, he looked at me in the way that I've been looking at him all of these times. "You're sexually attracted to me?"

Duh? I wanted to say. Just like every other man, I needed to hit him in the back of the head with a baseball bat for him to notice me noticing him.

"Yes," I said with a smile. "I'm only human James, especially when you're exposing your erection to me. It's been a long while since I've even seen a cock never mind touched a cock, held a cock, sucked a cock, and fucked a cock," I said looking at him looking at me with excitement as if telling him that I had just made chocolate cookies, his favorite. "I know it's wrong but I was tempted to touch you and had you not awakened, I may have. How would you feel if I was sitting here with my pussy exposed," I said lifting my nightgown higher and spreading my legs more for him to get a good look of his Mother's cunt.

Shocking even myself, I couldn't believe my brazen audacity. I couldn't believe my sexual depravity. I just flashed my son my pussy. What's fair for him is fair for me. If he's going to flash me his cock then I'm going to flash him my pussy.

"Mother! I never heard you talk like that and you just flashed your pussy to me," he said looking between my legs and staring at my exposed cunt.

"Oh," I said making no apologies.

I pulled my nightgown down a little and closed my legs a little but I didn't pull my nightgown down enough nor close my legs enough to deny my son another view if of his Mother's pussy if he wanted it. I wondered how much he could see of my cunt. I wondered if he could see my pubic hair. I wondered if he could see my pussy lips already glistening with sexual desire for him from seeing his cock. I'll be masturbating tonight, no doubt, over this impromptu flashing show.

"I'm sorry but my cock popping out of my pajamas was an accident," he said suddenly getting defensive and turning red with embarrassment.

"Every night we watch TV and you fall asleep. Then, as if to tease the incestuous lust that I have for you, every night you get an erection before your cock pops out of your pajama bottom. It seems to me that you have lots of accidents," I said with a suspicious smile.

I wanted to ask him if he was purposely flashing his cock to me but I didn't. I didn't want to inhibit him or to discourage his need to flash me his erect prick, if that was what he was doing. Maybe he's no different from me. He is my son after all. I spent my life flashing family, friends, and strangers my bra, panty, tits, and pussy, when I was his age.

"Sorry Mom," he said looking at me. "I had no idea." We stayed like that not talking and not moving with him on the couch and me in my chair. Then, he said, as if he had been thinking about our incestuous lust and allowing the raw, sexual images of our naked bodies flash across his mind before voicing them. "Incestuous lust? Really? You have incestuous lust for me?"

Now not even bothering to look up at my face, he looked back between my legs at my exposed pussy and smiled when looking up at me. Just as I knew he had been purposely flashing me his cock under the guise of accidentally flashing me, he now knew that I had been purposely flashing him my pussy under the guise of accidentally flashing him. He looked as if I had just complimented him when I was merely flashing him in the way that he had been flashing me.

Having flashed men my whole life, I couldn't believe I was now flashing my own son and he was flashing me. I've created the perfect incestuous scenario. Unless we were careless and broadcasted our incestuous lust for one another to our friends, no one would ever know what we did or didn't do behind closed doors. For sure, just as I would, my 40-year-old girlfriends would love to have sex with my 20-year-old son.

"I do have incestuous lust for you," I said glad to finally get this forbidden and hidden, incestuous lust off of my 36 D chest by my blatant confession. After only a bit of honest dialogue and accidental on purpose flashing, I was glad that incest was out in the open instead of hidden beneath the covers in the darkness of our separate bedrooms while we, no doubt, masturbated over one another.

"Every night? Really? Every night, I've been flashing you my cock in my sleep? Every night?"

"Yes," I said. "Every night I watch your cock harden in your pajamas before erecting itself enough to push through the opening in your pajamas."

"I had no idea," he said falling so silent with a long pause that I thought he fell back to sleep. "Just curious," he said looking at me.

"Curious about what?"

"What you thought about my cock?"

I smiled while allowing the vision of his naked, exposed, erect cock to flash before my eyes again before he stuffed himself back in his pajama bottom.

"You have a big, beautiful cock," I said, "just like your father."

"Did you..." he said stopping from saying what I suspected he was thinking.

I knew what he was too afraid to ask me the question. An accusation of incest, he wanted to ask me if I touched his cock while he slept. With already so much between us unspoken and with so much that I wanted to say, telling him the truth about my incestuous desire for him was my first step, even if I was forced to lead the way.

"Did I what?"

I watched him bite his lip with trepidation. Obviously he was a afraid to take the next step down the incestuous path. As any good Mother would, I too, it upon myself to finish his question for him. 

"Um, I was just wondering..." he said looking again at my exposed pussy before looking up at me.

"While you were sleeping did I touch your cock? Is that what you wanted to ask me?" I watched him nod his head with downcast eyes. "Did I wrap my fingers around your big prick and stroke you before leaning down to take you in my mouth?" Suddenly his face was filled with sexual excitement, no doubt, by the thought that I sucked him in his sleep. "No," I said, "but I'm not going to lie to you. I wanted to touch you, stroke you, and suck you before fucking you."

"Mother please. Stop. That's enough. You're making me uncomfortable," he said.

Uncomfortable? He has no idea how uncomfortable I've been with him flashing me his cock never mind with him giving me the sexual fantasies I've been having while masturbating myself over the naked thoughts of him.

"Uncomfortably horny," I said, "or uncomfortably sickened by the thoughts of having an incestuous relationship with me, your Mother?"

Tempting fate, I was pushing the incestuous envelope now. I needed to know if he felt as insanely sexual about me as I did about him.

"Uncomfortably confused," he said falling silent again.

Giving him every chance to take the incestuous lead, I waited for him to speak. Enough of what I had to say, I needed to know what he had to say. Already knowing what I was thinking, I needed to know what he was thinking.

"What? Talk to me Jimmy. I'm your Mother. I'm the only woman that you can feel free to say anything to, other than when you marry and take a wife who's hopefully your best friend."

"I have all these feelings for you, Mom, feelings of love and," he said pausing again, "sexual feelings. To be honest, I don't know what to do with them all," he said. "Some feelings are good feelings for you and other feelings are despicable feelings towards you."

"Well, I'm sure that I'm not making you feel as uncomfortable as you've made me feel uncomfortable by seeing your cock night after night," I said not trying to diminish his sexual feelings towards me but hoping more to bond our sexual feelings together as one incestuous, sexual relationship. "I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that I so wanted to touch you, feel you, stroke you, suck, and fuck you but I'm your Mother and you're my son. That would be wrong for a Mother to touch her son in a sexual way," I said while wanting to add would it?

I wanted to ask him the question that I needed him to answer. How would he feel about having incestuous sex with his Mother? Would he want me in a sexual way or not? I needed to know. Maybe what we shared is just a sexual fantasy and nothing more. I looked at him as if waiting for him to give me permission for me to do all of the above, touch him, feel him, stroke him, suck him, and fuck him before continuing. I was hoping to encourage him to make the first move, even though I already did that with my incestuous, sexual confession.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said unconvincingly as if he was disappointed that I defined incestuous sex as wrong and, no doubt, he felt compelled to agree.

Now that it was still ajar and threatening to close, I needed to open the door of incest again before it closed again and closed forever this time.




Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 03



To be continued...



Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 04



Now that we know we want one another Mother and now that we know how we feel about one another, a real dilemma, what do we do now?

"With me always feeling so horny, it's bad enough you flashing me your engorged prick," I said with a laugh while even shocking myself that I was speaking so openly and honestly to my son about not only my sexual attraction to him but also about his big cock. "Just because I'm your Mother doesn't mean that I don't have sexual feelings. Just because I'm your mother doesn't mean that I don't get horny when I see a stiff prick, even if that stiff prick belongs to my son, especially if that stiff prick belongs to my son," she said unable to conceal her sexual excitement.

"I'm sorry Mom. I had no idea I was flashing you. Moreover, with you being my Mom, I had no idea that you had sexual feelings," he said with a little laugh. "Besides, it wasn't as if I was flashing you my cock on purpose," he said with a sly grin. "I'd never do that."

"I know you weren't flashing me on purpose Jimmy," I said not believing him for a minute that he wasn't purposely flashing me his prick. "That's not what I'm saying. Yet, the fact that you did flash me your cock has aroused sexual feelings in me towards you. Even though I'm your Mother, I'm still a woman and I'm still human," I said. "I still have wants, needs, and desires that are now filled with nothing but loneliness, emptiness, and sexual frustration, especially after seeing how beautiful your cock is and how big and hard your prick gets."

Baiting him by making him feel proud about the beauty and size of his cock, I was hoping he'd take the line and swim out deeper with it while taking me along with him for the ride.

"Yeah, well, now that you mention it and now that you speak so openly about it," he said really getting defensive now. "I'm not the only one flashing their naked body around here," he said looking at me before dropping his focus down from my eyes to stare between my legs.

He was looking at my pussy. My son was staring at my cunt. Oh my God. In the way he was leering at me and in the obvious way he wanted me, he was making me so horny. He was making me wet. I could feel my nipples emerging and hardening with his unbroken stare.

I so wanted to show him my pussy. I so wanted him to finger my cunt while sucking my nipples as I stroked his cock. Whatever was happening between us whether it was a sexual attraction, incestuous lust, or the forbidden love that a mother feels for her own son, never have I ever felt as sexually attracted to my son as I was feeling attracted to him now. If he showed me any indication that he wanted me to, I'd suck his cock.

Even though I knew what he meant when he said that he's not the only one flashing around here and even though he was absolutely correct about me flashing him too, surprising me by his personal attack on my person, I pulled my nightgown down and closed my legs to sit like a lady.  Playing Mickey the Dunce in acting as if I didn't know what he was talking about, what I thought my flashing was subtle before, even unnoticed, was up for public discussion now. I felt as embarrassed as I felt sexually excited openly discussing my exhibitionism with my son.

Whether he knows it was accidental or on purpose, he's seen me flashing him. No doubt, he suspects that I've been purposely flashing him. He's seen bit and pieces of my body too many times not to think that his mother is an incestuous slut. No mater, now or never, it was about time we cleared the incestuous air anyway. Who knows, maybe this talk will lead to more than just going in my room to masturbate?

"What do you mean?"

I looked at him with innocence and in the way that a mother would normally look at her son when not lusting over her won. Hoping to trump his move by making him feel guilty in taking advantage of me by looking at all that I was showing, I played my morally modest Mother's card.

"Oh, don't play the Virgin Mary with me Mom. I know you better than that," he said giving me a knowing look as if he was replaying the images of my flashes in his mind. "There's not a man that's come to his house that you haven't flashed your panties, bra, pussy, and tits to while pretending it was accidental. Whether accidentally or on purpose, you've been flashing me your body for years," he said. "Having seen your naked body so very many times before, if I was an artist, I could paint you in the nude without having you model for me."

He floored me that he was on to my game of exhibitionism. Feeling as if I had been the head nurse in an insane asylum, I thought I had been getting away with murder. I had no idea that he knew I was flashing men and him on purpose. All this time thinking that flashing him and others was my dirty, little secret and my own personal game of exhibitionism, I was embarrassed that my son knew what I had been doing.

Called on the carpet as if he was my father instead of my son, I felt perverted. I felt like the slut that I was. I felt sexually excited. I wondered if my girlfriends flashed their adult sons their bodies too or if it was just me. I wondered if their adult sons flashed them their cocks or if it was only my son James. Knowing that all men are visual and that all men are voyeurs, I had no idea my son knew that I was an exhibitionist. For him to know that I've been purposely flashing him, along with so very many other men, I wondered how much of my body he's seen. No doubt, he's seen all of me over and again. Yet, for him to still be looking he must be interested. Moreover, for him to have the erection that he has now, he must sexually want me as much as I want him.

"How dare you! I have not," I said pulling my nightgown tighter around me and folding my arms across my breasts so that he didn't see my nipples sticking out in sexual excitement over the thoughts of him admitting to seeing every inch of my naked body.

"I can't tell you how many up skirts of your panties and down blouses of your bra and cleavage I've seen Mom," he said becoming more sexually excited. He was getting an erection again. "Then, whenever you wear your short, transparent nightgown, you treat me to continual up nightgown flashes of your pussy and down nightgown flashes of your tits," he said looking at me as if I was a decadent desert that he was trying to control himself from eating.

Eat me I wanted to say. Lick my pussy and I'll suck your cock, I wanted to say but I said no such thing. Unable to remove my eyes from the opening of his pee-hole, I was too busy watching and waiting for his cock to make an encore appearance from out of his pajama bottom pee-hole.

"I had no idea," I said lying while watching his cock stiffening again. Trying to entice him to still make the first move, with his growing erection as my sexual barometer, I knew exactly what I was doing in teasing my own son. "I'm sorry for teasing you. I didn't know that I was inadvertently showing so much of myself. Please forgive me," I said but not meaning it.

"Seriously, Mom, you never knew you were flashing me and every other man who visits here your panties, bra, tits, ass, and pussy?"

Jesus Christ, with all the thoughts of all the men that I flashed over the years, he was making me horny. There was a time when no man was safe from me flashing him, so long as I could make it appear accidental. Loving to tease men, I love flashing my body. I couldn't even count how many times I've flashed and how many men I've flashed over the years. I couldn't even remember all their names and all their faces. Out of all my flashes, there were only a few that stuck out in my mind enough that I recalled over and again when masturbating.

My recent flashes of my son and my naked flash of my father when his eyes bugged out of his head, after he walked in on me while I was changing into my bathing suit are now among some of my favorite flashes. Standing there naked with my bathing suit in hand, he just stood there staring at my big, exposed tits and my blonde, trimmed pussy. Acting as if I was in surprised shock, not even moving my hands to cover myself, I just stood there motionlessly as if I was a deer caught in headlights until he left the room and closed the door behind him while mumbling his apology.

'Oh, my God, I just flashed my father my naked body.'

Always looking to see what he could see, I figured he'd never imagine seeing his daughter completely naked but there I was showing him my tits, my areolas, my nipples, and my beautiful, blonde pussy. I swear, if my father-in-law had pulled out his cock right then and there and put a gentle hand to my shoulder for me to fall to my knees, I would have sucked him. I would have allowed my husband's father to cum in my mouth. God, I'm such an incestuous slut. No male relative is safe from me.

Purposely flashing him but making it all appear so accidental, with me stripping naked all prearranged, I knew he was going to walk in on me just before he had. I had given him the guest bedroom and being that my summer clothes were stored there, I decided to change there instead of in my room or in the bathroom. The shocked look of surprise and sexual excitement on his face is what I needed to sexually excite me. I'm sure, no doubt, that my father masturbated over me then in the way that I masturbated over him and in the way my son obviously masturbates over me now. We're all driven by incestuous lust.

My accidental towel drops of the mailman, the UPS man, FEDEX man, and pizza delivery man, are flashes of my naked body that have made my all time flashing lists too. If there was an award given for purposeful flashes made to appear accidental, I'd win the Oscar. Not nearly as subtle as sitting across from someone on the train with my legs parted enough for them to see my panty or wearing a blouse cut low enough for them to see my cleavage and bra on the bus, timing is everything when not trying to make flashes appeared contrived.

Flashing my tits to naive boyfriends and bored husbands, while waiting for their girlfriends and wives outside of the dressing room, when trying on bras by leaving the dressing room curtain askew is another favorite flash to do. Alas, most dressing rooms have doors instead of curtain now. Flashing my panties to shoe salesmen when trying on shoes stand out in my mind too. Out of all the flashes I've done, even those where I lost my bikini top at the beach after pretending to be toppled by a wave, those flashes are some of my favorite flashes to masturbate to when masturbating.

Oddly enough though, my all time favorite flash was the only flash that was truly accidental when the garage door opened as I was picking up trash in front of the garage. With me squatting down in front of the garage door, my Mother was coming home and opened the garage door from around the corner, a hundred feet away. I had no idea she was coming home until the metal, molding strip on the edge of the garage door caught the end of my bathrobe as I was standing from my squatting position.

As the garage door went up, so didn't my bathrobe. Having flashed a thousand men my naked, semi-naked, and lingerie clad body a thousand times before, never have I felt embarrassment when flashing men my body. Yet that day, maybe because it wasn't my idea to flash when the garage door raised my bathrobe and revealed my naked body to my neighbors, the garbage men, and to my Mother's boyfriend, at the time, for the first time flashing, I was embarrassed. I was mortified. Having no control over who I was flashing and when I was flashing, for the first time, I felt a normal reaction. I felt humiliation.

For me to escape the garage door, with my bathrobe over my head and my arms flailing trying to break free, I had to pull myself out of my bathrobe by falling to the ground. Standing there naked struggling and screaming while everyone ogled me, never have I been as embarrassed, that is, since the day that my uncle and cousin had their wicked ways with me when they stripped me naked. An 18-year-old virgin, that was embarrassing being naked in front of them just as it was frightening to be forced to touch them, suck them, and fuck them.

Is that why I'm the way I am now, flashing myself to men and lusting over my son? As if being bitten by an incestuous vampire, has what my uncle and cousin did to me made me into who I am today? An understatement, when it comes to sexual situations, my life hasn't been normal, especially now with me sexually wanting my son.

"Okay, I admit, this nightgown is a bit transparent," I said pulling the nightgown tighter and stretching the material across my body to show him what lay beneath, "but with us in a darkened living room, I thought--"

"When you stand by the fridge with the door open in a darkened kitchen, it's as if you're not wearing anything. It's as if you're naked Mom," he said as if the image of me standing in front of the open refrigerator door was the last straw when his erect cock made a repeat performance by popping out of his pajama bottom again.

"Oh, God. That's so embarrassing. I had no idea you could so clearly see through my nightgown," I said folding my arms across my breasts while getting sexual aroused with the thoughts of my son seeing my naked body as I ogled his exposed cock again.

He was making me hot and horny by all that I imagined he saw of my body while staring at all that I was now seeing of his body. I wondered if he knew his cock was exposed again? How could he not know? I wondered if he was purposely flashing me his cock in the way that I've been purposely flashing him my tits, pussy, and ass. I wondered if I excited him seeing me nearly naked as I was excited by the thought of him seeing me nearly naked and in the way that I was so very sexually excited seeing his cock now. I wondered if he masturbated over me in the way I've been masturbating over him. I wondered if he was hoping that I'd take the first incestuous step in the way that I was hoping he'd make the first incestuous move.

Wondering, wondering, and wondering, a long time of wondering and too much wondering, I was tired of wondering. Now done with wondering, I needed to know if he was as interested in having sex with me as I was interested in having sex with him. I needed to know if he was just as perversely perverted as I was. Maybe incest is something that is inherent to our family. Maybe incest is genetically encoded in our brains just as our brains our wired to like dark chocolate, alcohol, and ice cream.

"Then, when you stand in front of the TV to get the remote or the TV guide," he said gulping his sexual excitement before continuing. "I can see your naked body so clearly through your sheer nightgown that I could count the hairs on your pussy," he said looking sexually aroused when his cock took a bow by making another pulsating and waving appearance as if his cock was a stiffened windsock blowing in the wind.

"James! That's quite enough," I said obviously feigning embarrassment when what I felt was sexual excitement by the sight of his beautiful cock again. I felt my pussy secreting more juices with the thought that he could see enough of me through my sheer nightgown to count the hairs on my cunt. For him to see my pubic hair, he must have been staring at my pussy long and hard then as I was staring at his cock now. "You're not too old to spank," I said.

Suddenly my incestuous brain was filled with the image of pulling his pajamas down to spank his naked ass while ogling his cock up close and personal. Suddenly the image of me spanking his naked ass while his cock and testicles bounced with each slap made me dizzy with incestuous lust for him. Suddenly, I so wanted to hold his big prick in my hand. I so wanted to stroke him while watching his reaction to me masturbating him. I so wanted to fall to my knees before him and suck him while looking up at him with my big blue eyes, as he fondled my big tits and fingered my hard nipples.

"If you pulled down my pajamas and spanked my naked ass, you'd give me an erection and I'd probably--"

"You'd probably what?" I shot him a look that made him think twice before saying what he was about to say.

Tired of playing games, whatever he was about to say, he had better back it up with action and not just talk. I needed him to take that leap of incestuous faith without remorse and without regret. Already having had enough of dancing around the subject of incest, I wanted to get to the point. Will he allow me to suck him? Does he want to lick my puss? Can we fuck?

"I'd probably want to have sex with you Mother," he said in a sexually excited voice that quivered with incestuous desire for me. Finally, I was getting to him. While I was already there waiting for him with lust, finally he had taken a step across the incestuous line. Only, unfamiliar ground for him, no doubt afraid to continue, he seemed unsure where to go with his incestuous, lustful desire for me now.

"That's quite enough James. I don't need you to explain the image that I already have in my mind of you cumming all over my leg as I spank you," I said laughing.

The image of his dick oozing warm, gooey cum down my leg was so real that I could feel the sensation of it rolling down my leg and pooling on my foot before traveling in between my toes. Such a waste, I'd rather my son cum in my mouth than on my leg and foot. I'd much rather swallow his cum than to have it to collect between my toes as if it's some magical and wondrous new skin crème imported from Paris and exorbitantly expensive.

"In the morning, when you open the drapes to let the sun in the living room through the big bay window," he said as if imagining me standing there. "It's as if you're a stripper on stage offering your naked body to me," he said pausing to look down at his exposed prick.

'There it is. I caught you.'

I saw him look down at his cock. He knew that he was exposed again and he made no move to conceal his erection with his hand or to return his errant cock to his pajama. Now I knew that he was purposefully exposing his cock to me.

'This is it.'

Baited and hooked, with him already making the first incestuous move by flashing his cock to me again in the way that I've been flashing my body to him for the past two years, it was now up to me to reel him into my sordid den of incest.

With neither one of us acknowledging that his cock was sticking straight out of his pajamas bottoms again, we continued our discussion of incest, that is, in between me taking long, lingering, lustful looks of his big, hard, beautiful prick whenever he wasn't looking. Hoping it wasn't the last, perhaps this was the first step in our incestuous relationship. Taking a step further down the incestuous path, knowing now that he knew he was so exposed, and just as I suspected, I now had proof that my son was purposely exposing his cock to me.

"I'm glad you've enlightened me James. I'll start wearing a robe from now on," I said playing the innocent Mother card instead of the incestuous slut card when I'd much rather have his cock in my hand before taking it in my mouth.

"Please don't do that Mother," he said falling silent again as if afraid to speak and reveal his true incestuous emotions to me in the way that I confessed how I incestuously felt about him. "I appreciate the sexy show of your body," he said with a little laugh before pausing again. "I'm lonely and sexually frustrated too."

There was a long silence when neither of us said anything. Obviously he was waiting for me to talk and I was waiting for him to speak again. After another long pause, I figured he had fallen asleep again.

"Are you sleeping James?"

"No," he said in a far away voice as if he had been thinking, sexually fantasizing, or wondering perhaps, if he should confess what he was just about to confess to me. "I've masturbated over you, Mother."




Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 04



When he said that, I pictured him stroking his cock with the sexy thoughts of having sex with my naked body before shooting his cum in a tissue.

"You've masturbated over me? You have?" Still playing the innocent mother, I didn't want him to know that I was an incestuous slut, just yet.

"Yes, I have. Matter of fact, glad that I cleared the air, after all that I said and after all that you saw of me, I'll probably masturbate in my room before I go to bed over the thought of you seeing my prick and my seeing your pussy," he said pausing again as if trying to find the courage to say what he needed to say. "No doubt, as I always do, I'll be masturbating over the thoughts of us having sex."

"Oh," I said just as a way to acknowledge what he had said when I really wanted to say 'Wow' before stripping off my nightgown and jumping on top of his hot body.

Too dizzy with incestuous lust that my 20-year-old son was masturbating over my naked body and over him wanting to have sex with me, I didn't want to interrupt him.

"I masturbate over you every night Mom," he confessed pausing before saying what he was thinking next to say. "Sometimes, I wish you'd open my bedroom door and catch me masturbating. Sometimes I wish you'd ask to watch me masturbate. Sometimes I wish you'd help me to masturbate," he said taking his cock in hand.

Something that I wished I could do, stroke him, after having incestuous thoughts of stroking my son's cock since he turned 18-years-old, I couldn't believe it when he took his cock in hand. Unable to believe my eyes, he was holding his cock in his hand in the way that I wished I could hold his cock in my hand. As if he was in his room alone and masturbating over the incestuous thoughts of me, he slowly started stroking himself in front of me.

'Oh, my God.'

As if I was having a sexual fantasy instead of watching my son stroke himself, my son was playing with his prick in front of me. I was watching him masturbate. I couldn't believe that I was watching my son masturbate. Yet, sexually aroused enough just to watch his masturbation show without participating more in his masturbation show, it took all the control that I had not to reach out my hand to masturbate you.

I so wanted to lift my nightgown and masturbate myself in front of him. I so wanted to get down on my knees in front of the couch and masturbate him before taking him in my mouth to suck him. Already sexually excited in watching him masturbate, I was dizzy with incestuous lust and wet with sexual excitement by the thoughts of masturbating my son before sucking my son. Obviously whether accidentally or on purpose, he knew which buttons to push and he was pushing them all at once.

"And I masturbate over making love to you Jimmy," I confessed while looking at him, staring at his cock, and watching him stroke himself.

"Oh, Mother," he said stroking himself faster, while I reached up to finger my nipples and rub my clit through my nightgown.

As if we had a contagious disease called incest and as if we were preordained to masturbate ourselves in front of one another, unable to help myself, I raised my nightgown up to my waist, spread my legs wide open, and touched myself with one hand while fingering my nipples with my other hand to the sexy sight of him stroking himself. Staring at my totally exposed pussy, he was watching me fingering myself while I was watching him stroking himself.

"So now that we told one another how we feel about one another," I said, "what do we do now?"

To be continued...



Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 05



Chapter 05

Mother's love for her son leads to her having sex with her son.

"So now that we told one another how we feel about one another..." I said watching him stroking his big, hard cock in front of me.

Suddenly feeling embarrassed having my son watching me fingering my pussy and rubbing my clit with one hand while feeling my tits and fingering my nipples with my other hand, I felt as if I was a degenerate, trailer park mother living in West Virginia. Filled with guilt that worked against myself wanting to give into my incestuous urges, it's funny how I put the blame on myself for seducing my son when he was as much responsible for seducing me too. Instead of thinking of him as the degenerate son, I thought of him as my hot son. Just as I'd do any of their sons in an instant, any one of my girlfriends would love to have sex with my son too.

"Yes?" He looked at me, stared at me, actually before leering at me without missing a beat in stroking himself.

I watched his eyes widen at the sight of me playing with myself. He was staring at my pussy. The fact that my son was staring at my cunt made me want to strip off my nightgown and show him my naked body. I watched him stare at my exposed pussy in the way I had been staring at his exposed cock. With both of us so incorrigible, if anyone knew the incestuous, dirty games we played behind closed, bedroom doors in exposing our bodies to one another, they'd be shocked and I'd be humiliated.

With the sudden thoughts of being caught and judged for exposing my trimmed, blonde pussy to my son, I pulled down my nightgown and sat like a lady to look at him. Still continuing to watch him masturbate himself, while he still stroked his cock, I couldn't remove my eyes from his big prick. The sight of his hand wrapped around his stiff cock while he stroked his member made me so horny. Just like his father had, my son has such a big, hard prick.

I wanted him. I had to have him. Only, feeling the repercussions of something so forbidden that could explode out of control, incestuous sex still had to be his decision and not mine. Even though I had a already crossed the line and even though he had too, I still needed to make him think that this was all his idea.

"What do we do now?" 

I looked at him waiting for him to answer me while hoping I had sufficiently baited him to want me enough by me showing him my pussy while fingering myself and staring at his cock while he masturbated. Nonetheless my incestuous lust for my son, suddenly I felt depraved and embarrassed masturbating myself in front of him. It was one thing for him to masturbate me, I wish he would, but quite another thing for me to give him a private masturbation show. Different for a woman than it is for a man, I'm sure, at least I told myself, that it was more exciting for a woman to watch a man sexually pleasure himself than it was for a man to watch a woman masturbating. Not knowing if that voyeuristic display of exhibitionism was true or not, thinking so little of myself that I, as his mother, could sexually excite my son, for some reason I thought that most men would rather flash a woman their cock than to have a woman show them their pussy.

At a loss for an answer, only a man can answer that question. No doubt, it depends on the man as well as it does on the woman. Just a guess on my part, I really had no idea if men prefer flashing their cocks instead of seeing a pussy. Nonetheless my curiosity and unanswered question, I watched my son slowly stroking himself to a bigger and harder erection. Indeed, without a doubt, at least from my point of view, it was so exciting for me to watch my son playing with himself. If only he'd ask me and if only he'd allow me, I so wanted to wrap my hand around his cock and masturbate him myself. I wanted to make him so excited with my hand before making him excited with my mouth and cunt that I imagined cum exploding from his cock before oozing all over my hand. I so wanted to take him in my mouth and suck him before taking him deep in my pussy to fuck him.

Am I that abnormal to sexually and incestuously want my son or are these normal feelings and its only abnormal if I act upon them? Yet, nonetheless my normal or abnormal feelings, am I that much of an incestuous slut that while allowing him to expose his cock to me while stroking himself, I wish I was stroking him, sucking him, and fucking him? I couldn't help but wonder if all mothers are sexually attracted to their grown sons in the way that all sons are sexually attracted to their sexually frustrated mothers. Wishing I knew the answers to my questions, I didn't know how my incestuous feelings related to the feelings of other mothers. Feeling as if I was the only mother wanting to have sex with her son, just as I felt there was something inherently wrong with him for wanting to have sex with me, I felt that there was something inherently wrong with me for wanting to have sex with him.

What do I do? What should I do? Should I just give into how I feel and have sex with my son or should I control myself from making matters any worse than what they are by having sex with him?

Truth be told, after taking my own unofficial survey, I was more sexually excited watching him masturbate himself than I was having him watch me masturbate. Maybe the converse of that is true. Maybe he's more sexually excited watching me masturbate than he is masturbating in front of me. Only, knowing my son in the way that I do, I suspect he's more sexually excited giving me a masturbation show than he would watching my masturbation show. Whether exposing himself to me was accidentally or on purpose with him flashing me his erect cock nightly, while watching television, when he falls asleep or pretends to fall asleep on the couch, it was excitingly obvious to me now that we both wanted the same thing, incestuous sex.

"What do we do now?"

He looked at me before looking down at his cock. With the overhead living room light lighting me up as if I was a stripper on stage, he stared at my tits that showed through the thin material of my nightgown. Being that I was already aroused and wet from masturbating myself, I knew he could see my erect nipples through the nearly transparent material of my nightgown. The fact that he could see my tits and nipples and was staring at them made me want to remove my nightgown and show him my naked body with the hope that he'd want to touch me, feel me, and have sex with me.

"Yes," I said with all the calmness of a teacher instructing her student when I just wanted to jump his bones and have sex with him. "Now that we told one another how we feel about one another, what do we do now?"

I needed him to answer the question. I needed him to make all the moves. I needed to know that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. With incest a big step, the sexual memory of a lifetime, the last thing that I wanted was regrets and with him blaming me for seducing him, even though that was exactly what I was trying to do. I didn't want him to hate me later in life. Should he marry and have children, I didn't want him to exclude me from his family then for the incestuous sex that I instigated and seduced him to have now. Incest had to be his idea and not mine. Just along for the ride because I was his mother because we lived in the same house, I needed to be the one who submitted to him and not the other way around.

"You could touch me," he said looking at me with expectant eyes. 

"Is that what you want? You want me to touch you?" I asked trying to conceal the sexual excitement that I suddenly felt by the thoughts of touching and feeling my son's cock.

"Yes," he said. "I'd love for you to touch my prick. I've love for you to take me in your hand and stroke me," he said with a look of sexual excitement on his face while holding his cock in his hand as if offering it to me.

"Is that what you want? You want me to stroke you and masturbate you?" Just the thoughts of taking my son's cock in my hand heated me with incestuous desire for him.

"Yes mother. I'd love for you to masturbate me. I can't tell you how many times I sexually fantasized over you entering my room as I was masturbating," he confessed. "Just as I can't tell you how many times I tried to catch you naked by barging in your bedroom when you were changing or in the bathroom while you were showering, I can't tell you how many times I sexually fantasized over showing you my erect cock. I always wondered what you do if you caught me masturbating and saw my erect prick. Would you look away and close my bedroom door or would you stand there staring?" He looked at me as if waiting for me to respond to his question.

"No doubt shocked that I caught you with your cock in your hand stroking yourself, I probably would have stared," I said not feeling embarrassed by my bold confession in the way that I might have been before.

"I can't tell you how many times I sexually fantasized over you masturbating me mother. And..." he said pausing and not finishing his thought to look lustfully away as if he was having an incestuous, sexual vision.

"And what?" I looked at him while watching him touching himself and slowly stroking his cock.

"Now that we told one another how we feel about one another, you could suck me," he said looking down at his cock before looking up at me with lustful longing in the way that only a horny son can look at his incestuous mother and in the way that I've been staring at him.

Where will this incestuous lust end? Is it not enough that my son exposed his erect cock to me on numerous occasions? Is it not enough that my son is masturbating himself in front of me while I masturbated myself in front of him? Yet now my son just admitted that he wants me to stroke him and to masturbate him.

What do I do? What should I do? More importantly, what shouldn't I do? I'm the strong one. I'm his mother. Instead of giving in to my incestuous, sexual desire to touch him, feel him, and stroke him, I could say no but I can't say no. I want to touch him, feel him, and stroke him. This is it. Now or never, once I take that brazen incestuous step, there's no turning back.

Now that he just said the words that I was waiting and hoping to hear, why am I not doing what I so wanted to do for so very long. He not only wants me to stroke his cock but also he wants me to suck his cock. He wants me to blow him. No doubt, he wants to cum in his mother's mouth. Without doubt, he wants me to swallow his cum.

"And if I touch you, if I stroke you, and if I masturbate you," I said staring at his big prick. "If I take your big, hard, hairy prick in my mouth to suck you," I paused looking at him while allowing the image to wash across my mind of me sucking my son, after he licked my pussy and gave me an orgasm with his fingers and tongue, before he fucked my pussy. "Tell me. What would you do for me James? What would you do for Mommy?"

He looked at me in the way he's looked at me so many times before when he was my special, little boy. He looked at me as if he was still ten-years-old instead of twenty-years-old and I had just promised him a trip to Disney World.

"What would I do for you? What wouldn't I do for you?" He looked at me as if I was deranged to even ask him the question. "I'd do anything you'd wanted me to do Mother. I'd be your sexual slave. I'd be your student and you could be my sexual education teacher. I'd be your Sub and you could be my Dom," he said getting more sexually excited with each confessed thought and each admitted desire.

We looked at one another for a long minute without either of us saying anything before I spoke.

"I like the idea of you being my sexual slave, of you being my student, and of I being your teacher. I could be your Mistress Mother. Your mother the mistress," I said with a naughty laugh. "Oh, my God," I said with a sexy look of incestuous delight, "if only my friends could see me now, exposing my pussy to masturbate for my son while watching my son stroking himself to masturbate for me."

"Oh my God, mother," he said stroking himself faster.

"My uptight friends may feign shame, shock, and outrage but they'd all be jealous," I said putting my index finger to my mouth while slowly running it the width of my lips before sticking the tip of my tongue out to lick it before taking my finger in my mouth to suck it in the way that I couldn't wait to suck his cock.

The action of me running my finger across my lips, licking my finger, and sucking my finger made my son's mouth fall open from the obvious incestuous lust that he had for me. I watched his cock throb and pulsate in his hand when he stopped stroking himself to watch me teasing him with my mouth and tongue. I was making him as incestuously, sexually crazy as I was making myself.

"Who knows, Mom," he said with a thoughtful pause as if he was envisioning what he was about to say. "Maybe we could start something."

"Start something? What do you mean? Start what?"

A sexy smile illuminated his face and the thought of what he was about to say raised his eyebrow along with my interest.

"We could start," he said as if waiting for an imagined drum roll to finish, "a personal, private, and very exclusive, incestuous sex club," he said.

"An incestuous sex club? I don't know about starting an incestuous sex club," I said rebuffing him with a laugh. Without even giving him the chance to finish what he had to say, to give his suggestion my consideration, I reconsidered my rejection of his idea. I continued to eye him with interest while still staring at his engorged prick. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you know of a couple of friends who are already having sex with their sons or who wished they could have sex with their sons, we could get together once a month for incestuous sessions," he said.

"Incestuous sessions? How would that work?" Now he had my attention and I looked at him with more interest than curiosity.

"In the first session, we could begin by discussing mother and son incest openly between one another," he said. "Let it all hang out. Explain to one another not only how we feel but also why we feel the way that we do. I dare say that we're not as abnormal as we think we are. I dare say that there are plenty of mothers who'd want to have sex with their sons and plenty of sons who'd want to have sex with their mothers," he said as if he was an incestuous guest speaker giving an lecture on mother and son incest.

"Interesting," I said. "Shinning a spotlight of attention on something that's only spoken in whispers behind closed, bedroom doors, that would eliminated many of the misconceptions that we all have regarding incest."

"Perhaps, in the second session, if everyone was agreeable to undressing, a son could undress his mother and a mother could undress her son. A way to remove the stigma of a mother and son being naked in front of one another, they could display their bodies to one another without any of the guilt and shame," he said.

Such a great idea, suddenly I was overwhelmed with the sexual excitement of my friends' sons seeing me in my bra and panty before seeing me naked. The vision of what my son suggested continued when I imagined seeing my friends' sons naked too. Surrounded by young, stiff pricks, I'd be in Heaven.

"You mean, you wouldn't mind having me undress not only in front of you but also in front of your friends?" Watching his reaction, I looked at him while waiting for him to answer my question.

The idea of me posing naked for his friends while his friends posed naked for me was something that I could only imagine in a porn movie.

"Yes," he said.

"And my friends would not only undress in front of their sons but also in front of their son's friends too," I said suddenly excited by the imagine of my son stripping me naked in front of more men his age.

"Yes," he said.

Oh, my God, never have I been as sexually excited as I was now. With just the suggestion of exposing my naked body to men my son's age, half my age, made me crazy with sexual desire for not only for my son but also now for his friends too. Definitely, I'm going to Hell for thinking of all what I'm thinking.

"And that wouldn't bother you to be naked in front of my friends?"

I looked at him with a renewed sexual excitement that this private, incestuous club idea could really work.

"Embarrassed? Are you kidding me Mother? I'd be sexually excited," he said. "In the way that I'm showing you my cock now, I'd love to show my big prick to all of your hot friends."

I could only imagine the looks on Christine's, Julie's, and Elizabeth's faces seeing my son's big prick and seeing him naked. Supplanting that thought, I could only imagine having their sons Mike, Bill, and Glenn seeing me naked.

"And I would be embarrassed either," I confessed with a dirty laugh while waving my face with my hand with the hot, sexual heat that I suddenly felt.

"If the first discussion session and the second showing session went well mother, in the third session a mother could touch and feel her son while her son touched and felt his mother," he said.

Oh, my God. Fuck me. I could only imagine the excitement I'd feel having my son strip me naked in front of my friends and his friends before touching me and feeling me while I stripped him naked in front of my friends and his friends before touching and feeling him too. Are you kidding me? This is a brilliant idea. The best idea he's ever had. Only, why haven't I ever thought of this? This incestuous sexual club is what incestuous sexual fantasies are all about, only going from sexual fantasy to reality, this could really be something.

"And what happens with the fourth session?" 

I couldn't wait for him to tell me. For him to spout out so very much information about incestuous sex in regards to an incestuous sex club made me realized that he must have been thinking about this long and hard. Apparently, I'm not the only one he's been sexually lusting over. He's been sexually lusting over my friends too. Admittedly, I've been sexually lusting over his friends too.

I wondered if his friends masturbated over me in the way my son obviously masturbates over me and my friends. I wondered if my friends masturbate over my son in the way that I sometimes have masturbated over having sex with their sons. Wanting to jump to the sexual part, not that all of this wasn't the sexual part, I wanted to hear about the sex. Obviously, for him to think of a private, incestuous sex club, he was as incestuously deranged as I was.

"We have sex. Mother has sex with her son and son has sex with his mother, while the other couples in the group watch," he said.

I could only imagine Christine and her son Mike, Julie and her son Bill, and Elizabeth and her son Glenn watching me having sex with my son James before I watched Christine, Julie, and Elizabeth having sex with their sons. Wow! 

"I see," I said already suspecting the answer to my question but asking it anyway. "And after mothers and sons have had sex with one another, then what happens in the fifth session?"

I imagined an orgy with mother's sucking and fucking the sons of other mothers while their sons licked and fucked the mothers of other sons. Such a simply splendid idea. I didn't know why no one has ever considered the thought before.

"Perhaps, if all in attendance were agreeable, we could swap partners," he said.

There, he said it. He wants to swap his mother to have sex with my friends. He's willingly agreeable to having his friends do me while he watches. This just gets better and better.

"I see," I said, "sort of in the way of a swingers meeting for couples but for mothers and sons who want incestuous sex."

Oh, my God. I could only imagine my sexual fantasy come true of a mother and son group orgy. How sexually exciting would that be. Mothers fucking their sons and sons licking their mothers before each couple swapped partners with mothers sucking and fucking multiple son's cocks and son's licking and fucking multiple mothers. I could only image the costumed masquerade party we could have.




Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 05



"Maybe later, we could branch out our club to include father and daughters," he said.

"Actually, I don't know about the father and daughter idea, but I think the incestuous sex club is a wonderful idea," I said.

There's no way that I wanted to included father and daughters. I wanted to keep these young studs for myself. Once we introduced, young, slutty women in the mix, my son and his friends would rather be licking and banging some 20-year-old than a bunch of sexually frustrated 40-year-olds.

The only thing that I had in my favor is experience. My friends and I would give our sons and their friends better sex than any 20-year-old child ever could. Maybe including fathers and daughter wasn't such a bad idea. I wouldn't mind having sex with a bunch of 40-year-old men but we'll cross that bridge later, perhaps in session six.

"Our incestuous sex club would be a way for other mothers and sons to enjoy one another sexually without having all the guilt of incest," he said looking at her with a hopeful expression.

Fuck the guilt, I said to myself. You've not only crossed the incestuous line, you've obliterated it by erasing the line with your incestuous sexual lust in coming up with the idea of an incestuous sex club.

"You may be onto something," I said. "A mother and son sex club. Let me think about it. I already have three girlfriends who'd be interested in seducing their sons as well as seducing you too."

"Who?"

"I don't want to tell you until I ask them," I said. "Now returning back to our original discussion before all this talk of an incestuous sex club, what would you do for me if I touch you, stroked you, masturbated you, sucked you, and fucked," I said staring at his big prick. "What would you do for me James? What would you do for Mommy?"

To be continued...



Mother's Love for her Son, Ch. 06



"What would you do for me James?"

As if in a hypnotic state, he just sat there staring at me with his cock in his hand. I asked again when he didn't answer me. Then, instead of looking up at me, he continued staring at my pussy. As if I was a decadent dessert that he was about to eat, he had a sexually excited expression on his face.

"Sorry Mom," he said looking up at my face instead of staring down at my pussy. "Did you say something?"

"What would you do for Mommy?" I asked him again this time in a sexier voice that was filled with incestuous lust while slowly lifting the hem of my nightgown and seductively spreading my legs, in case he needed a hint.

He watched me revealing my trimmed, blonde pussy to him as if I was opening an expensive gift box and I was. By lifting up my nightgown and spreading my legs, I was opening my own personal box to offer him entry to his own private playground. Mommy's pussy was exposed right before my son's horny eyes. I felt so wicked. I felt so aroused. As horny as he was, no doubt, I couldn't wait for him to touch me, finger me, and lick me.

"I'd lick you," he said staring at my exposed pussy while watching me finger myself.

Glad that he took the obvious hint, I was teasing him. It was so easy to tease my son. Only, what I did in flashing him my panty before, I escalated the teasing in flashing him my pussy now.

"Have you ever licked a pussy?" I asked continuing touching myself while watching his big cock throb in his hand.

"No," he said looking from my cunt to my face before looking back at my cunt again.

It aroused me that I was flashing my son my pussy as much it aroused me that my son was staring at my pussy.

"I'll be your culingus learning model," I said with a sexy laugh. "You may use my pussy as your tool to practice before leaving Mommy's nest to make love to other woman. We all must learn somewhere," I said watching his reaction to my offer of sexual education before confessing my lurid, incestuous past.

"I'd like that," he said.

"Forcing me to suck them, my uncle and my cousin taught me how to suck cocks when I was only 18-years-old and still a virgin. It's only fair that I return the favor and teach my son how to lick his first pussy," I said looking at him while waiting for him to respond. "Would you like me to teach you how to lick a pussy James?"

"Yes Mom," he said. "I'd love for you to teach me how to lick a pussy."

With me looking at him and him staring at me, never removing my fingers from pleasuring myself, he sat there so silently while watching me. Obviously, by the shocked look on his face, he was stunned that this incestuous, sexual exchange was finally happening. A long time coming, I was stunned myself that I finally found the courage to seduce my son. All it took for us to have forbidden sex was for him to finally take his first step across the incestuous line for me to do the rest. I couldn't do it all alone. I needed him to willingly take this mother and son incestuous journey with me. Not wanting him to have disturbed memories of a mother seducing her son, with both of us going into this forbidden, sexual affair with our eyes wide open, I needed our first time together to be consensual.

"Something that will take you years to discover and something that most men never learn, I'll show you want woman want James," I said looking at him with as much sexual excitement as he was had on his face when looking at me.

"Thank you Mother," he said meaning it.

"The first lesson is to put what you want aside to please the woman. The woman's sexual pleasure comes first and you come second. Once you please her, she'll please you. Once you give her what she wants, an orgasm, she'll give you all that you want and more," I said smiling after giving him my motherly advice. 

"Thank you mother for teaching me," he said.

"You're welcome James. Now make yourself comfortable in front of Mommy," I said spreading my legs even wider and wide enough to show him some pink.

"Even in dirty magazines, I've never seen a pussy in the light and up close before," he said.

As if I was an artist's model and he was an artist, I positioned myself in my chair so that the overhead light was shining down on my pussy. I looked down and my cunt was glistening with my secretions. Our first sexual time together, I couldn't wait to feel my son touching me, fingering me, and licking me. 

"Can you see?"

"Yes," he said.

"Give me your finger," I said taking his index finger in my hand. "Now touch me like this gently, not too rough, and not too fast. Yes. Good. Just like that. Do you feel that little bump right there?" I rubbed my bean with his finger before pressing his index finger down on my bean.

"Yes. I feel it. I feel it Mom," he said with a nervous albeit sexually excited little laugh.

"That's my bean. When you gently rub it like this," I said gently rubbing my bean with his finger, "it makes me hot. Yes, just like that James. Rubbing Mommy like this is akin to having Mommy stroke your cock," I said staring at his big prick.

Suddenly my mind was filled with the image of me touching his cock and stroking his cock. I couldn't wait to touch him and to stroke him but I wanted him to do me first. I didn't want to rush our first time together with him cumming all over my couch and falling asleep before sexually satisfying me. This was more about me than about him after all. I'm the one who lusted over him. I'm the one who wanted him. I'm the one who's been teasing him for years. This was my chance to get all that I wanted from my son before he finds some woman and leaves me alone with my bad self.

"Let me try rubbing your bean myself without you holding my finger," he said. "I like staring at your pussy while touching your pussy," he said.

"And I like you staring at my pussy while rubbing my bean," I said with a sexy laugh.

I watched his eyes staring at my big tits through my sheer nightgown. Already fully erect, my nipples were pushing hard against the thin, sheer material of my nightgown. Wanting to give him all that he wanted, I needed to make him even more sexually excited than he was so that he'd pleasure me before I pleasured him. With him staring at all that he wanted to see and all that I wanted to show him, I couldn't want to remove my nightgown to show him my tits.

"May I feel your breasts through your nightgown mom?"

Being that he asked my permission to feel my breasts, going one better, I couldn't wait to show him my breasts.

"Wait," I said. "Most men enjoy playing with a woman's tits and fingering her nipples while fingering and licking a pussy and I see that you're no different," I laughed.

I put my legs down, sat up in my chair, and lifted my bum to remove my nightgown. Slowly, teasingly, and lovingly, as if removing a shroud from an expensive painting at an art gallery, I watched his excited eyes go from my pussy to my tits when I removed my nightgown. I sat there, a proud mother as if teaching her son to fly and to soar, while my son stared at my naked body. Having seen glimpses of my naked body before, this was different now and much more exciting. Purposely naked in front of him, not more than two feet from one another, I was within reach of his horny hands.

"You have awesome tits Mom. They're so big. They're so shapely. They're too perfect to be real," he said looking up at me. "Are they real?"

"Of course they're real," I said with a laugh that my son would think I had breast implants.

"You have beautiful breasts Mom. The most beautiful breasts I've ever seen," he said.

"Thank you," I said. "So I take it that you like Mommy's tits?"

I stared down at my breasts to see what he was seeing. I watched him staring at my tits before looking down at my breasts again with sexual excitement and incestuous naughtiness that I was sitting there naked before my son. Waiting to be sucked, my nipples were already so very erect and hard.

"I love your tits Mom," he said withdrawing his finger from rubbing my bean to stare at my tits.

"Don't be shy James. You may touch them, feel them, and squeeze them," I said watching his hand reach out to touch, feel, and squeeze my breasts. "Yes, that's right. Feel Mommy's tits James."

"They feel so firm," he said touching them as if he was sticking his finger in dough. "Something I always wanted to do, I never thought I'd be feeling your tits Mom."

"Don't be afraid. They won't break. Go ahead and hold them in the palm of your hand. Feel them. Fondle them and caress them. I enjoy having my breasts touched in that way, especially when it's you, my beautiful son, feeling my tits," I said looking down to watch my son's hands have their horny way with my big tits.

"Oh my God Mom, a sexual fantasy come true, I never thought I'd be sitting here seeing your pussy, fingering your pussy, seeing your tits, and touching your tits," he said ignoring my pussy to run his hands all over my tits. "You've made me so happy."

I looked down to watch my son's hands having his way with my tits. It was so exciting to finally have him see my breasts and now for him to touch and feel my breasts was something that I've imagined for so very long while masturbating over the thoughts of this day.

"I like having my nipples fingered James," I said while watching him touch my nipples with his fingers.

"You have big nipples Mom," he said while fingering my nipples.

"You can pull them, turn them, and twist them. You won't hurt me, so long as you don't pull, turn, and twist them too hard. That's good. Just like that," I said. "Now while you're fingering my nipples, finger my pussy," I said while directing his finger to my hole. "Touch Mommy where no son should ever touch his mother," I said with a dirty laugh that made him laugh too.

I watched him touch and finger me before closing my eyes to enjoy the sensation of my son having his way with my naked body.

"If only my friends could see me now, they'd be jealous," he said removing his star from my pussy to look up at my eyes before refocusing his stare to my breasts. "They'd wish that they could touch their mothers in the way that I'm touching you," he said. "No doubt, they'd wish that they could see touch you in the way that I'm seeing and feeling your naked body now. You're way hotter than all of their mothers."

"Thank you James," I said opening my eyes while suddenly thinking about my sons' friends seeing me naked and feeling my body before gangbanging me. "That idea that you had about a mother and son sex club is a good idea. Maybe one day your friends can touch their mothers in the way that you're touching me now," I said with the imagined excitement of hosting a mother and son sex club. "Maybe one day you're friends can explore my naked body in the way that you're exploring my naked body now."

"That would be so hot Mom for my friends to have sex with you while I had sex with their mothers," he said. "I'd like to see that."

"I'd like that too," I said hoping that my telling him that I'd like to have sex with his friends and would enjoy watching him having sex with my friends would reinforce the idea in his head enough for him to do more than just talk about it.

"You're so slippery wet Mom," he said pulling his finger away.

In the way he's been sniffing my panties while masturbating over my sexy lingerie, I was half expected him to lift his finger to his nose to sniff me. I couldn't wait for him to lick me.

"Don't be afraid James. It's just a pussy. Touch me. Touch me deeper. Finger Mommy, James," I said. "If you make me cum, Mommy will make you cum too."

I watched him fingering me. I allowed him to experiment touching me with his fingers before showing him where and how to touch me again by holding his finger with my hand and redirecting it. I could feel the first signs of fire burning inside of me. My son was going to make me cum. My son was going to give me an orgasm. My son was making me his woman and I was making him my man.

"I'm not hurting you, am I Mom?"

"No not at all. What you're doing feels good, really good. If you continue touching me in that way, you'll make Mommy cum," I said. "Would you like to make Mommy cum?"

"Yes, Mom, more than anything, I'd love to watch and hear you cum," he said continuing to finger me.

When I said that he was going to make me cum, he continued rubbing me a little harder and faster while fingering a little longer and deeper. My sexual fantasy come true, I couldn't believe my son's fingers were inside of me. I couldn't wait to suck his cock. I couldn't wait for him to make love to me before fucking me, really fucking me.

"Look how big my nipples are," I said looking down at my nipples before running a slow palm across them. "Suck my tits James. Suck Mommy's tits. Mommy loves having her tits sucked while you finger her cunt. Take Mommy's big nipples in your mouth and suck them," I said putting my hand behind his neck and pulling him to me.

"Your breasts are so big Mom," he said taking one nipple in his mouth before sucking the other nipple.

"Yes, that feels so good," I said when he finally took my nipples in his mouth, first one and then the other before starting the sucking process all over again when taking turns with my nipples.

Something I so wanted to do but debated about doing, I feared I'd ruin the moment. It was one thing for me to flash and tease my son and quite another thing for me to expose myself to my son while showing him my naked body but it was quite another thing for me to kiss my son. It was one thing for me to masturbate myself while watching him masturbating himself but it was quite another thing for me to allow him to masturbate me. Now, taking it a step further, I wondered how he'd react to me kissing him.

Would he allow me to kiss him? Would he recoil when I slipped him my tongue? Would he return my kiss? Would he slip me his tongue? Wanting to kiss my so for so long, there was only one way to know.

I leaned down to kiss him. Before closing my eyes, I looked at his face. His eyes were wide open in the way that he looked the first time he saw me naked when barging in the bathroom as I was getting out of the shower. Then, when I parted his lips with my tongue, I closed my eyes. I was kissing my son. As if I was dreaming, I couldn't believe I was kissing my son.

Then, when I felt his tongue against mine, I couldn't believe it. I was French kissing my son and he was French kissing me. Our long, wet kisses heightened my lust for him. I couldn't get enough of him. Obviously by the passion of his kisses, he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I couldn't stop kissing him. He continued feeling my tits, playing with my nipples, and fingering my pussy while kissing me. I was actually making out with my son.

"Would you like to taste me now?" I asked pulling away from his lips.

"Yes," he said with a face full of nervous trepidation.

"Move closer and bring your head down lower," I said watching him more his face so close to my cunt that I wanted to hump his mouth. I just wanted to grab him by his hair and mash his face in my pussy. Only, I didn't want to frighten him. I didn't want to ruin our first incestuous time together by rushing the sex. "Now flick out your tongue and lick me. Don't be afraid. Lick Mommy James. Lick my pussy," I said while watching my son licking me. "If you make me cum, I'll suck your cock. Would you like Mommy to suck your cock James?"

"Are you kidding me? I'd love for you to suck my cock Mom. I can't wait for you to suck my cock. Only..."

"Only what?"

"May I cum in your mouth?"

"Of course you may cum in my mouth," I said with a laugh. "I'd love for you to cum in my mouth. I've love to taste my son's cum," I said dizzy with the thought of sucking my son to such sexually excitement for him to ejaculate in my mouth.

"And will you swallow?"

"Will I swallow you? Of course, I'll swallow you. It wouldn't be much of a blowjob if I didn't swallow you," I said with a sexy laugh. "Now don't talk. Just lick. Lick me James. Lick Mommy."

"Okay," he said.

"Lick my entire pussy before sticking your tongue inside my hole and continue doing that several times. Then, while licking me, use your finger to fuck me. Fuck Mommy, James, with your long, stiff fingers as if you were fucking me with your cock."

"Like this?"

"Yes, that's right, lick and finger fuck mommy and use your other finger to rub my bean. Oh baby that feels so good," I said leaning down to whisper my sexual pleasure in his ear. "That's it. Right there baby. Right there James. Rub Mommy's pussy while fucking Mommy's pussy and fingering her nipples."

"Oh my God Mom, I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm going to make you cum," he said.

"Don't stop licking me James. Lick my blonde, trimmed pussy James. Don't stop. Don't stop licking me. I'm nearly there. Finger fuck me while rubbing my bean and, with your other hand, reach up to finger my nipples. Pinch them, pull them, turn them, and twist them. Mommy loves having her nipples fingered.

To be continued...