Since my daughter got married, I’ve been living with my son, Alex. At the time he was 20, studying and working in a laboratory. I’d been without a husband for about four years, and in that time I’d only had a few flirtations.
It all started with a suspicion. I was surprised that Alex, tall, dark and charming, had never brought a girlfriend home.
Was he gay? I started going through his things. Nothing was wrong so far. That left the computer.
He had once helped me recover my e-mail password, which I had forgotten. I used the same trick to find out his email password. I know it’s wrong, but I went through his mail.
There were lots of emails in his inbox. I almost fell backwards when I read the first one. The sender said he was having sex with his own mother. What’s worse, he was encouraging my son to do the same.
Others talked about desires for his mother, in a vulgar way, as if it were trivial. Shaken, I went through my inbox of sent emails. It was even more appalling. In them, Alex described me, said he was horny for me and even fantasized about sex. Oh my God!
I didn’t know before. My son wanted me as a woman. And I had never noticed a thing. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Come on, I wasn’t one to throw things away. My youthful manner disguised the fact that I was almost 40.
Until then I hadn’t found a man because I really didn’t want to. There were plenty of offers. But with so many young girls around, what about me, your mother?
I began to observe my son more closely. For the first time I looked at him, not with a mother’s gaze. Embarrassed, I looked at him like a female enjoying a male. It was the prelude to my torments.
I read and reread all the emails. I no longer felt the repulsion of the initial reading. The texts gave me a strange sensation. A warmth I had never felt before.
- What’s happening to me? – I thought.
A thousand things were going through my head. Should I talk to him? Should I
confess that I had read the emails? Should I say that, by moral standards, it was wrong? What would my daughter think? My brothers? The neighbors?
The situation, I confess, massaged my ego. My son, beautiful, beautiful, wanted me. Some excerpts from the emails kept popping into my head: “My mother is so hot! What beautiful tits!”, “That big ass made me hard”, “I played a handjob today with her smooth white thighs”, “I saw her naked in the bathroom. I got so horny. I want to put my dick in her!”.
The sleeping woman in me was awakening. I went back to the hairdresser and manicurist. I restarted my diet. I revamped my closet with brighter, sexier dresses and shoes. And when I bought new, sexy and daring lingerie, I started asking Alex for his opinion.
Even though I knew it was pointless, I didn’t have the strength to react. In fact, part of me didn’t want to react. The days went by and I got crazier and crazier. The pyjamas were retired. I started wearing short satin nightgowns, transparent and low-cut, exposing part of my breasts and thighs.
Alex pretended to be indifferent, but as I read his emails, I noticed him getting more excited, in a real escalation of arousal. I was on a roll.
When Alex was a child, I kissed him on the mouth, a mother’s kiss. As a teenager, I don’t know when, we started kissing on the cheek.
But one day, our lips met. We forgot that we were mother and son and kissed each other on the mouth, naturally, with desire. I pulled away, disturbed to realize that I had felt pleasure.
Our physical contact increased. At first as a joke. And the hugs, groping and thrusting of hips became more and more frequent. It was only a matter of time before it happened.
It was a night when I overdosed on wine. We were lying under the covers, watching a movie. When my son’s hand brushed my breasts, I felt my nipples get hard instantly. And the wave of pleasure reached the little pigeon, causing it to moisten and even contract.
I tried to blame the drink, but in fact, repressed desire guided my right hand to his hard tool. Just groping it no longer satisfied. We didn’t say anything. I pulled down Alex’s pajama pants and took hold of his erect member.
The feel of that thick, warm tool in my palm was delicious. I masturbated gently. Alex’s panting breaths showed the pleasure he was feeling. Moaning, he said:
- Aaahhh… how good, aaahhh, mom, very good. I can’t stand it any longer… I can’t stand it… aaahhh, I’m going to goozzaarr!
The spurting cum soaked everything in front of him. His cock was throbbing, with viscous cum dripping between my fingers.
Dying of shame, I ran to the restroom to get some paper and clean up. Alex came after me, his pistol waving, a little limp. He grabbed me from behind and kept rubbing against me.
I felt guilty, playing with fire. And now I was feeling the heat, about to be burned. A mixture of regret for having given in. And letting it get to that point. My son wanted more. So did I, but it was all madness. His penis was hard again, resting against my thighs and buttocks.
I knelt down and sucked on it. And nooooossa!… It had been so long since I’d put a hard, throbbing piece of meat in my mouth! As I sucked, I masturbated so that he would come soon. Alex moaned and thrust his penis into me, choking me and making me choke. And he came again.
I swallowed all his warm milk and cleaned his cock all over, leaving it smooth and shiny with my saliva.
Calmer, I told him that it was wrong and should never happen again, that he should get a girlfriend.
He didn’t even seem to pay attention to what I was saying and came out saying that he loved me and that no other woman mattered. The following days were difficult, with my son always trying and me rejecting him, wanting to, I confess, but running away.
I only gave him oral sex and masturbated him. My son was getting more and more crazy, trying to possess me. I thought that if I didn’t let him put his cock in the hole he came out of, it wouldn’t be a love relationship.
I tried to convince myself that what we were doing was just a way for a woman to satisfy a man. No big deal. And he became more and more ardent and daring. His attempts to remove my panties ended in a struggle.
He would try to suck my ostrich. And that gave me pleasure, weakening my resolve. On one occasion, he almost managed to take me by force. I almost gave in to him.
I had to put an end to it. I’d seen an article in a magazine and suggested we go to a swing house. I hoped he would find another woman and leave me alone. The adventure was a disaster. I was the one who ended up being harassed. And the fight was ugly.
Alex, jealous, put me against the wall. We didn’t speak for several days. I needed to make up. When he was a child, I used to promise him something for Christmas or his birthday. And, in a moment of impetus, I ended up promising to let him have sex with me on his birthday. And we were fine. That was all I wanted.
But his birthday was approaching. And I, regretting my promise, thought to myself: “Well done, mouthy!”. He had even stopped forcing me. He hugged and kissed me with great affection, always reminding me of my promise. As if it were possible to forget.
I have to confess that I wanted him too. A beautiful boy, in the prime of his youth, all crazy about me. And I loved him more than anything in the world. But my conscience held me back. I wanted him and at the same time hoped that nothing would happen. Or that it couldn’t really happen, even though I’d already been taking the pills for two days.
And then the fateful day arrived. I woke up to Alex kissing me, demanding the promised gift. And I was trying to buy time, hoping it wouldn’t happen:
- Not now, son. At night, okay?
And he was all happy and anxious:
- That’s good, Mom! For someone who’s waited so long, a few more hours?
He said that and went to work. Those hours were the most agonizing of my life.
I was in the air, unable to concentrate on anything. I watched TV as if I were in a strange country. I could see the images, hear the sounds and it was as if everything was another language. Nothing entered my mind except the impending incest and how to avoid it.
The day was coming to an end. I turned on only the lamp in the hallway. I left the house in darkness. As if the darkness could hide the whirlwind of contradictory feelings that raged through me. I took a shower and put on a set of bottle-green panties and camisole.
As I combed my hair, I saw my smile in the mirror as I imagined myself as a whore waiting for her favorite client. Embarrassed, I put on some red lipstick, making my lips look more sensual. That wasn’t me. It was someone else.
When my son arrived, I went to kiss him on the cheek. He grabbed me firmly, with a surprising grip, giving me a bold, wet kiss. And I reciprocated, tongue and all. Alex was already stripping off in a hurry, throwing his clothes on the way to my room.
I couldn’t think either. We were both out of our minds. Taken over by desire. And it was I myself who took off my panties, the last barrier between our sexes. We fell on the bed together and rolled around until he was on top.
Alex was in a hurry. I had a weak reaction to so many passionate outbursts. His hard, swollen member was poking at my lower abdomen, looking for the entrance to my pussy. I wanted to stop there, but I didn’t have the strength. Desire dominated me, preventing any reaction.
When that cock slid into my vaginal lips, it was so delicious that it broke down my defenses.
I spread my legs and prepared to be penetrated. The blunt head entered, stretching my flesh.
- Ahhhhhhhhh… my son… don’t do that to Mommy!!! – I let out a lewd moan of pleasure. My pussy was on fire, as it hadn’t been visited for a long time. Alex thrust vigorously. He used his weight and his hands to immobilize me, as if he was afraid I would give up.
I just stood there, feeling the advance of every inch of his cock inside me. An incredible and almost forgotten pleasure took over my being. As soon as it was all in, he began to thrust, while moaning, almost like an animal:
- Aaahhh, it’s in, Mom, it’s in! Aaahhh, what a tight pussy! Aaahhh, yummy, yummy, it’s all in! Aaahhh, mom, I love you, how hot you are!…
The word “mother” made me remember who I was fucking. Yes, I was giving it to my own son. Part of his body, which had once left me, had come back the same way, all stuffed into my pussy, filling my most intimate flesh.
Oh my God! It was insane and agonizing to think about it. I felt my crack being filled by a forbidden penis. A social taboo was being broken. Something that would be terribly embarrassing if any of my relatives found out.
I was being possessed by someone who, no matter how open-minded I was, left me dead ashamed. But the back and forth of his spit inside me was incredibly delicious. And I had an overwhelming orgasm.
And I could already feel another one coming when I felt my son come. His whole body shook and then stopped, remaining motionless. Only his cock remained pulsating inside me, spurting warm cum deep into my pussy.
My breathing gradually calmed down, at the same time as my lucidity returned and my heart beat faster. I felt dirty, the most depraved of women. My son’s semen was leaking out of my pussy.
I had just let my son try to make his son in me, his own mother! Then I would be my grandson’s mother. It was too much for my head. It was too crazy and it messed with my head.
I decided not to think about it. The love I felt for him spoke louder. This time, I pulled him close to me, tightly, wrapping my arms and legs around him. I didn’t want him to leave me. He was mine. And he would always be mine! My love, my life.
And he came and said into my ear:
- I love you…, I love you very much, Mom!…
