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  My mom was sucking my dick
Posted by: incest - 12-07-2018, 04:31 PM - Forum: Mom Son Incest Stories - Replies (4)

My girlfriend, Dee, didn't like my Mom, said Mom was too bossy. 

That's probably true. 

Mom is a take charge lady. She doesn't let decisions hang in the air. She tells others what she wants, and she has a voice—kind of sandy and resonating—that cuts across everyone else's. She is decisive enough that others tend to go along with her. 

Dee is one of those girls who, like Mom, knows exactly what she wants, but Dee needs to be polite. She won't come out and demand things like Mom. Dee acquiesces to other people, but she gets bitter about it later. It's annoying.

Mom is a force. She's on the tall side, about five feet eight, but she seems taller. One morning when I was fourteen, Mom told me that I had grown taller than her. I didn't believe it until that night when her boyfriend confirmed it as Mom and I stood back-to-back. Yet, even knowing I was taller, I still felt as if I was always looking up to her. I think a lot of people felt that way. The woman took command. Every one of her boyfriends over the years—all of them that lasted long enough for me to meet them—were pushovers for her. 

I remember sitting in the family room with Pete—her longest lasting and current boyfriend—when I was back in high school. Mom was upstairs getting ready. Pete—he wasn't complaining—talked to me about how Mom almost always decided what to do when they went out together.

"I think she asks me so that she can have something to compare her idea with, you know?" Pete said.

"Yeah?" 

He nodded. "She needs to confirm her own plans. She needs my idea to make sure hers is the better one, so she can shoot something down." 

Hearing him talk about it, I realized right then that Pete was spot on. Countless occasions jumped into my head where Mom asked what I thought, considered it for a moment, and then quickly dismissed the idea. I always had the feeling she already knew what she was going to do.

She didn't plan on me, though. Mom had me when she was twenty years old. I never knew my father. Mom said, "Believe me, you'd be disappointed, honey." My guess is that I am the result of some kind of one-night stand—probably drunken—with someone, in sobriety, she dismissed as a loser. 

Right out of high school, Mom told me she was a dancer. I used to ask her about it. She'd always be vague, other than to tell me that she quit dancing because of me. By the time I was fifteen, I quit asking because I thought I figured out her dancing. 

She never admitted it—and I never asked—but I had a pretty good idea that she had been a stripper. I didn't have any hard evidence, just speculation. For starters, a female high-school graduate with no professional dance training probably can't get on at the Boise Ballet. Also, I had this memory from when I was six or seven years old.

Mom and I were playing hide and seek in the house. It was my turn to hide, so I ran upstairs to her bedroom. Her closet had two double sliding doors on opposite sides of the back wall. Between the doors sat Mom's dresser. I went into one of the closets, sliding the door closed behind me.

I'd looked in her closet before, but what I'd never known was the space inside spanned all the way through, between the two sets of doors. So, I crawled under the hanging clothes to hide in the middle area, on the other side of the wall opposite Mom's dresser.

At some point, Mom came in. She opened both doors, didn't see me, and left to seek me elsewhere in the house.

When she slid open the door, some light came in. A reflection caught my attention. Once Mom left and the heat was off, I reached up and touched what I'd seen. It felt like beads or crystals. I crawled to the side, slid open the door, and then went back.

There must have been fifteen hangers with really strange clothes. I pulled the most interesting one off the hook, completely forgetting about hide and seek. I laid it across Mom's bed, amazed.

I didn't really know what I was looking at, other than it was clothes—women's clothes. There were two hangers, interconnected, one hanging off the other. The top hanger was a bra, I thought. Maybe a swimsuit, my little kid's mind figured. Either way, it appeared to be made entirely of diamonds or crystals. On the lower part hung the matching bottoms. They seemed impossibly skimpy, even to my inexperienced eyes.

There were other strange outfits in there, and while I was retrieving the diamond outfit, I noticed several colorful wigs on the shelf above. It didn't matter. I was transfixed by the sparkling ensemble before me. I glided my finger across the studded jewels. 

Mom walked into the room while I had the bra in my hands, rubbing it against my cheek.

She shrieked, and I jumped backward. She ran over to me, threw the outfit back into the closet, and rolled the closet door shut. I started crying, and whatever anger she'd had all dissolved away.

By the time I'd gotten the courage to go back and see those things—maybe a few months later—they were all gone.

When I was fifteen, something triggered that memory. I can't remember what it was. Doesn't matter. I knew enough to know those clothes weren't sexy outfits a woman wore for her lover in the privacy of the bedroom. They were something else, something to be worn at an event, and I thought I knew what kind. 

I blocked it from my mind and never asked. 

The disconcerting belief that Mom had been a stripper was also buttressed by the fact that my friends all fucked with me about her body and her looks throughout middle and high school. I couldn't really separate myself from the fact that she was my Mom, so I never saw it the way they did. 

From my perspective, she just took care of herself. Her white-blonde hair was thick and rich. She almost always braided it into a bun or a long pony-tail. Her skin tanned well. She worked out. Her sleek legs had feminine lines of muscle that rippled when she walked. Her chest wasn't crazy, but big—she embarrassed the hell out of me when she wore anything with a low neckline.

She was a beautiful woman. I could see how people would think that. Her smile made me want to keep her happy and laughing. Her eyes, dark brown like coffee, expressed warmth and affection. She had a wonderfully long neck that made her seem alert and eager. Her posture was always very proper, almost regal. 

That was another thing Dee sometimes complained about—how proper my Mom was. She never swore. She never left the house without being made up and dressed perfectly for whatever the occasion. Dinner at home was rarely informal and almost always in the dining room. I remember eating at a friend's house and being shocked to see the television on. Mom would never allow such a thing. 

Manners were another big thing for Mom. We had lessons all the time when I was a kid. When I complained, Mom always said, "You will not find a lot of boys with good manners in prison. Does that tell you anything, honey?" 

I always wondered what my Mom must have been like in those times before I was born. How could this formal, perfectly-mannered lady ever have been a stripper?

I hadn't a clue.

All I understood was my Mom knew what she wanted, she didn't hesitate to tell people what it was, and she was forceful and beautiful enough to almost always get it.

It didn't surprise me, then, when after working as an administrative assistant for an attorney, she decided to do night school to get her degree. Then she finished law school. Then, she worked for a judge. Then, she became an arbitrator—which is basically a judge, but for mediations instead of criminal or civil trials.

So, Mom ruled. Literally.

And her profession was proper, like her.

She didn't smoke or get drunk all the time. She didn't really have any vices but one: Fridays.

Mom loved Fridays. The minute she could set her own schedule, she quit working Fridays. As the years passed, Fridays became a kind of ritual for her. When she woke, she drank coffee and read the news. Then, she would go to the gym and work out for hours—and I do mean hours: three, minimum. When she got home, she showered until all the hot water was gone, and then she curled up in bed with HGTV on. She'd watch her favorite shows, read a book, or nap until the evening. 

But, there was one strange aspect to her Friday ritual: she didn't eat all day.

It's true. She fasted on Fridays. She'd drink her coffee and water, of course, but she wouldn't eat, not until dinner. And, oh shit, what a dinner she would have.

Friday night was often date night for her, but on those rare occasions when it wasn't, I got to see how she ate.

Fuck.

We're talking porterhouse steaks with loaded baked potatoes. We're talking clam chowder, lobster, and cheesecake for dessert. We're talking a full rack of barbecue ribs with coleslaw and sweet potato fries topped off with pecan pie. She cut loose.

Saturday would arrive, and she slept in. Things returned to normal.

I knew not to screw up Mom's Fridays.

***

During my sophomore year in college, I spent a Friday with her. 

It wasn't planned. I didn't really even realize it until it worked out the way it did.

I was commuting at Boise State, living at home with Mom. I had classes on Friday, but when final exams came around, my last one turned out to be on a Thursday. 

So, it was mid-December, and I was home with nothing to do on a Friday.

I planned to just chill, but Mom was energized.

"Come to the gym with me," she said, half suggesting, half demanding. She took a sip of coffee, hanging on to the morning paper with her other hand and waiting for me to agree to her plan.

"You want me to?"

"It'll be fun."

"Okay."

Shortly before 9:00am, we left together in her black Four-Runner. I forgot my cell phone.

I was out of my routine. During the school year, I always grabbed the phone from my nightstand on my way downstairs. I'd grab a pop and a granola bar, then head to school.

That morning was different; I took my phone and went downstairs, but I wasn't dressed and ready to go. When I went back upstairs to change into workout gear, I left my phone in the kitchen. I didn't think to grab it on my way out the door.

The air was weirdly calm that morning. Outside, there wasn't even the trace of a breeze.

It was also unseasonably cold. Boise is high desert. It may be pretty far north for America, but the climate is mild. You get two bad months—mid-December to mid-February. During those months, we get this thing called "inversion" because we're in a valley. So, during inversion, you never see the sun and cold air just gets trapped by the mountains. Other than those times, it is clear, sunny, and comfortable. Summers can be downright hot—100's, no problem.

That morning, the chill in the air was deep. It was the first truly frigid day of the season. Between that and the stillness, it felt like the whole city lay frozen, waiting for something to happen.

It had been a dry fall, so there wasn't a trace of ice, and the roads were fine. The drive took us almost twenty minutes because we lived in a new development in the foothills north of town. The only notable thing on our trip was the fact that there seemed to be hardly any cars about. As we walked into the gym, I saw a snowflake on the sleeve of my coat.

Mom's workout was something else. For the first hour, she jogged around the mini-track and then swam laps. I only jogged, not having brought my swimsuit. Out the windows, we watched the snowflakes come down, and it was beautiful. Once Mom left for the pool, I found an elliptical and watched ESPN. 

Mom joined me after her swim.

"Look at this snow," she remarked.

I hadn't even glanced away from the television. When I did, I slowed down. 

Geez. 

Visibility was about 20 yards out those windows. Fat snowflakes obscured the rest of the world.

"No wonder this place is empty," she added.

"You worried? Should we go?" I asked.

"No way. I'm not even close to being finished," she responded. "Let's go lift."

So, we lifted weights, The snow kept falling, if anything, more intensely. When it hit the ground, it wasn't immediately melting anymore; it accumulated.

After close to forty-five minutes of lifting, we drank some water, and Mom invited me to her spinning group, which started at 11:15am. 

The class was in a room filled with spinning cycles. There were no windows, just a big flatscreen that showed us, video-game style, our route. By the time it started, there were only five of us spinning, including the instructor. There must have been fifteen empty cycles.

"Is this place usually full?" I asked Mom.

"Yes. I hadn't planned on inviting you until I saw how few people were here this morning. I didn't think you'd be able to get a bike."

The instructor said something about how brave we were for coming out in the blizzard.

"It's a blizzard?" I asked the instructor.

She looked at me strangely, saying, "Well...yes. You didn't know?"

I shook my head.

"We're supposed to get six to ten inches. Crazy, right?"

Shit. Mom and I glanced at each other. She waved it off, and away we went. It was a forty minute ride, and it sucked.

Mom pushed herself, her face set and determined. Every few minutes, she would catch my attention as she wiped her face with a towel or grabbed a drink from her bottle. She worked hard, but it didn't seem too challenging for her.

I, on the other hand, was doing everything in my power to keep the wheel spinning. Huffing, gasping, and feeling like my heart was going to explode, I refused to stop.

When I stepped off the bike, I lurched forward because my legs were so used to churning.

Mom laughed. "Newbie," she said.

Normally, Mom would do a short yoga routine for her cool down, but when she saw the streets out the window, she canceled that plan.

"Let's just go home," she said. "Let me grab my things." She left for the locker area.

I waited for her in the lobby, and my eyes were glued to the windows.

Fuck me. This was downtown Boise on a Friday at noon, and I only saw about five cars. The streets ought to have been humming with lunch traffic. Plus, it was clear that the drivers struggled.

Downtown Boise is flat, but these cars spun and slid like they were on muddy hillsides.

When Mom appeared, I asked her for the keys and told her to wait while to got the car cleared of snow and warmed up. She didn't object. It was only proper for her son to do such a task.

The phrase "witch tits" burst from me when I felt the full brunt of the snow and wind. I slipped a few times running to the car. Mom hadn't packed her ice scraper, so I cleared the drifts on the windows with my arms. Then, I climbed in and started it up.

Freezing my ass off, I decided there was no way I was going to wait until the car warmed up and the windows defrosted. I ran back to the gym.

When Mom saw me, she laughed. "You look like Jack Frost!"

I turned to the mirror in the lobby and saw myself. My face was pink. A thin layer of snow completely covered everything else. I started laughing, too. 

As we waited for the car to get warm, the lobby attendant told us how he saw four accidents on the way in just a few minutes ago, and that he only traveled from the apartments at Tenth and Main Street—just eight blocks away.

He called for us to be careful as we walked out the door.

Mom gasped, "Ah!" when the cold hit her. We jogged to the car. She wanted to drive. I opened the door for her and then went around to the passenger side. She put the car in 4-Low, and we left.

The car performed really well until we left the plain-like downtown for the rolling, curving foothills. There, we felt the back-end slide out from us a few times on turns. 

We were just four miles or so from our development when Mom went around a left-hand curve on a ridge that threw our back end out from us. I felt Mom gun the engine and throw the wheel the other way to save it, but it only spun us more.

"Shoot!" she cursed.

"Woah!" I hollered, watching the world carousel around us.

As our front-end spun through 180 degrees and beyond, I felt the car drop off the road's narrow shoulder. I figured it would stop us. In the foothills, the terrain is native grasses surrounded by jagged pebbles, rocks, and a few scattered boulders.

We didn't stop. The front end came around, almost to 360 degrees, but we were half on and half off the road, with my side leaning down the slope. The car stopped for a brief moment, and then the front end began to slip down.

"Oh. Oh, shoot," Mom said. 

"Reverse?" I suggested. "Mom, reverse."

The hill went down at an obscene angle from my point of view. It must have been a thirty or forty-yard drop at what seemed like at least 45 degrees. It was probably less, but looking at it? Shit. 

There were no trees, but several bushes and a few large boulders, one of which lay directly in our path. Mom threw it in reverse, but it was too late. 

Down the hill toward the gully we went.

Mom screamed, "I'm sorry!"

"Boulder. Boulder! Boulder!! Hold on!" I yelled.

We were halfway down the hill, picking up speed. The dense grasses, long and crunchy at this time of year, combined with thick pebbles and coarse gravel under the tires did not slow us down.

There would be no avoiding that boulder. Above the snow line, a good foot or so remained exposed. It sloped up to a jagged point like a mini Sawtooth mountain. Mom pushed hard against the steering wheel. I threw my hands out toward the dashboard.

We hit it on my side—the right front tire striking it dead on, rocketing me from my seat and throwing the car into a spin.

Mom screamed.

My head hit the roof. "Ah, shit!" I said.

The car swung halfway around, and we slid backward the rest of the way. We came to a stop when the back end mowed down a thick bush.

Mom's knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"You okay, Mom?"

"I'm okay. I'm fine. You?" She let go of the wheel and turned to me.

"Head's a little sore, but I'm good."

"Do you know how lucky we are?" she asked.

"Uh-huh. We could have flipped."

"That rock should have flipped us."

"I know."

"We could be dead," she said.

I nodded, looking at her.

"I went too fast. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry..."

"Mom. No. It could've happened to anyone. You did great."

"You think?"

I nodded.

"Call the police, honey, will you?"

I reached into my coat pocket. Then the other one. Then the inside pocket. Then the pockets of my sweatpants. I scanned the area between my seat and the door. I checked between my seat and the little storage console between us. Nothing.

"What the matter?" she asked. "Can't find it?"

I shook my head. Then I knew. I saw the phone in my mind's eye. "No. Damn it! I left it in the kitchen."

"There's no need to curse," she said, reaching into her own pocket. Then she checked another. Then another. "Wait a minute," she said, pushing her butt up and checking the seat. She grabbed her purse from the floor in front of the console, digging and searching. 

"Oh, no, no, no," she muttered. She frantically dug through her purse. "No! I must have left it back in the gym! Shoot!" She threw her purse back to the floor angrily. After a few calming breaths, Mom turned to me. "It was when we decided to leave. I always check it after spinning, and then leave it when I do yoga."

I sighed, nodding.

We stared at each other for a moment.

"Can you start it?" I asked.

Mom reached for the key and then stopped. "It's already running."

"Oh," I said. I couldn't hear it.

"You're not suggesting that I try to drive up that hill," she said, pointing up the steep snowy bank toward the street.

"No. Radio."

"Ah," she said, reaching for the button. We scanned channels until we found a weather report. It didn't take long.

What we learned was that the blizzard would continue through the night, ending sometime the next morning.

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  Mom stroked my cock faster
Posted by: incest - 12-07-2018, 04:07 PM - Forum: Mom Son Incest Stories - Replies (1)

Man. It was great to be stationed at a naval base in Pensacola, Florida. My first assignment as an MP, after eighteen months of being a grunt for the Marine Corps. Oh, forgive me. My name is Corporal Barry Watson. USMC. I've been in the service now just under two years. Most of that time was spent as an infantry soldier at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, shortly after thirteen grueling weeks of basic training. But here I was, in the "Sunshine State".

I grew up in a small upstate New York town, just north of Albany. My family still lives there, and though I've been away for almost two years, nothing from home hadn't really changed. I was three weeks settling into my new home at the base when I finally got my letters. (The military can be slow at times rerouting mail to transferred personnel). One letter I received was from my parents. I opened it up, pulling the letter out of the envelope. When I unfolded the papers, a reddish-orange maple leaf fell out from the folds. It was mom's way of telling me that autumn had arrived in New York. Big contrast to the 80+ degree weather I was enjoying down here. Upon reading the letter, my heart sunk when she said that she and dad were getting a divorce. It wasn't a big surprise, but the last time she wrote to me, she said that things were looking positive between the two of them. I now found out that was short lived. 

The day came when I received my honorable discharge papers from the Marine Corps. I flew back to New York, where my mother and sister were waiting for my plane to land in Albany. When I entered the terminal. they saw me, and ran toward me, hugging me the moment they got close enough.

"Welcome home Barry." Mom said giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Welcome back baby brother. My sister Joann said. "Boy, just look at you all dressed up in your uniform, looking all spiffy and handsome. The Marines really did a bang-up job turning you into one stud of a man."

"They sure did. My little boy is now a very handsome man. Just wait til those former high school bitches who use to pick on you see you now. She said while squeezing my cheeks together.

"Okay, mom. Thanks for the flattery. Where is Pop? Didn't he come?" Looking around the terminal, searching for him.

"No Barry. Your father and his hussy secretary decided to elope last weekend. They're on their honeymoon right now in Aspen."

"Didn't he know I was coming home? I told you three months ago that I wasn't going to re-enlist." 

"I know dear. But after our divorce, he and I had little if any communication."

"Mom!! You could've told him I was coming home!!" Now getting hot under the collar.

"Barry!! He changed his number and everything." Raising her voice, getting people to stare. "I..." Calming down, lowering her voice. "I had no way of getting a hold of him. Your asshole of a father even got a restraining order against me. I can't even call his work unless it's an absolute emergency."

"Why did he do that mom?" I asked, pretty stunned by what I just heard.

"Because he felt I was harassing him and his new squeeze doll secretary."

"Dad's always been an asshole Barry. You know that. Come on. Let's get you home hey? I'm sure you miss your bed." 

"My bedroom is still the same. Right? You didn't move anything around did you?"

"No Barry. It's still the same. We just threw out those nasty porn mags of yours." Joann said snickering.

"You did what!!" My face getting red.

"No, we didn't." Mom said. "But I wish you would. They are nasty. Blah!"

"What can I say. I like naked women." Grinning.

"Hope your Marine buddies didn't catch you jerkin' the gherkin." Joann laughed. 

"Very funny sis. Do you have that plastic cucumber at your bedside? What did you call it? Oh. Mr. Green Giant?" 

"Shut up!! I never had any such thing!" She said blushing. 

Joann and I did as siblings always did. We busted on each other. Mom was walking in front of us, faster than we were, as a matter of fact. I think she didn't want people to know that she raised two potty mouth kids. 

We pulled into the driveway. It was so good to see the old house again. The decades-old dirty, yellow painted house. The garage, with the dent in the overhead door from the first time I drove the family car. Boy, was dad pissed that day when his eight-year-old son got behind the wheel. But he should've never left the car running. Then there were those crooked porch stairs, which my dad never bothered to fix. "It adds character." He said. But if you were not familiar to the slope of the steps, it could also add to a lawsuit. And of course, the porch. More like the 'hang out' as my friends and I would call it. We spent many rainy summer days on this porch. It's also where I got my first kiss, and the first boob feel. Both on the same day. Yep, many years I spent growing up in this house. Now it seems I'm the man of it.

I went upstairs into my room to put away my duffel bag and my suitcase. I took off my 'Dress Blues' and donned on my civilian clothes. I went back downstairs to grab a bite to eat. 

"I'm famished. Got any cold cuts?" I said scrounging through the fridge.

"Well if you just hold on, I'll make you something." She said pulling me away from the refrigerator. 

My mom was sweet. Forty-eight, but looked ten years younger. She was a petite woman. She always kept in shape. When I use to have military leave, she and I would walk around the whole town. She tried jogging with me, but she felt too sore. Even for a half a mile jog. But walking, Sheesh. She could walk for miles without tiring. Maybe that's what kept her looking young. But she still looked hot for her age. Her long black, curly hair had just the slightest hint of gray. She stood about 5' 1", with a nice curvy body, and perky B-cup breasts. Her ass was pretty nice too. Dad's secretary had to be drop-dead gorgeous in order for him to leave mom. 

"So how old is my new stepmother?" I asked swallowing a chopped carrot.

"Ready for this?? nineteen!" She said making me a sandwich. "Nine freaking teen! Can you believe that?" Throwing the butter knife in the sink.

"Well. I hope she doesn't ask me to call her mom." I laughed. "She from around here?" 

"Troy. I think. Yeah. Troy. Little redhead slut name Sarah."

"What was she, an intern?"

"Something like that. Barry. Can we drop it? I don't want to talk about them." She said, almost beginning to cry.

I walked toward her, putting my arms around her. "Hey. Hey. It's alright mom. Didn't mean to upset you. You're a strong woman. Always have been. You'll get over this." Rubbing her back.

"Well with you home now, I don't feel so alone." Holding me tight. "Okay," Wiping the tear from her eye. "Go eat."

I knew mom was hurting. Me being at home did make her happy, but the void of my old man leaving her for a younger, more nubile girl, had to the ultimate stab in the back. Ever since they broke up, mom just sat around the house except for work or going shopping. Even that became terrifying with friends or acquaintances asking her if she's okay, or how's she holding up. The worst thing my mom wanted to hear from people was, "If you need anything, you let me know." What the fuck were these women going to do but to tell her she'll be okay. Or worse, "You hang in there Diane. Someone will come along." 

Mom didn't even go out on dates. She was too hurt, too let down, and in her view, too old. She still liked to go out for her walks. Though it was a lot earlier in the morning, like an hour before sunrise. There weren't many people out except for the paperboy throwing out the newspaper from his car, or the city garbage truck collecting the neighborhood trash. The second day I was home, I went with her on her daily walk.

"You're looking good mom." Staring at her oversized sweats.

"What are you talking about? I'm dressed in rags."

"Yeah, but aren't they the same sweats that you had last year when I was home on leave?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Well, if I recall. They weren't as loose as they are now." 

"They are much looser now aren't they?" Pulling on the bottom of the shirt. "Maybe it's time I get some new sweats."

"We could go shopping later. I need some new clothes myself."

"Okay. It'll be nice having a man go shopping with me for a change."

"Mom, no offense, but you need to get laid."

"Barry. I need a lot more than that. A whole lot more."

I knew what she meant, and left it at that. We did our walk, then mom got ready for work, while I went about reuniting with old friends. Later on that day, mom and I went shopping for new clothes. People who haven't seen me since I graduated high school couldn't believe the change in me. Some even tell me or mom how much I looked like my father when he was my age. I was surprised that didn't bother her. I guess she was too busy showing me off.

Several months went by since I've been home. I was up in my room one Saturday when I heard mom and Joann talking. At first, it was just the usual women scuttlebutt, but after a while, their voices began to escalate. I went downstairs to see what all the commotion was about. 

"Mom. You need to forget about dad and get out and mingle. You've been cooped up in this house, wallowing in your self-pity for too long. You need to meet new people. Do something new." I heard Joann say as I came down the stairs. 

"Maybe I don't want to." Mom snorted. "It's clear why your father left me. I'm not attractive anymore."

"Mom! That's bullshit and you know it! There's a lot of guys out there that would love to be with you." 

"Joann. I'm too old to be going out on dates again. I haven't been on a date since your father. That was decades ago. I'm out of practice, and I can't go back to being a giddy teenage girl."

"Mom, you don't have to..." 

"Joann. Enough!!" Mom interjected. 

"She's right mom." I intervened.

"You too?" She asked staring me down with dagger eyes. 

"Mom. You know you still have it. You look young for your age. You have one hell of a personality. Not to mention smart and witty. You just have to take it slow. Maybe a coffee date or something."

"But no one has asked me out. Not in the past six months at least. There are not too many men around my age that's available."

"Sure there are." Joann said. "And I know just the place where we could go."

"We? Who's we?" 

"The three of us. We could go out for dinner, then go drink, and dance, and who knows, maybe you'll find somebody. You too baby brother." 

"Me?" I replied "I can get a girlfriend any time I like. But I will go just because I could use a night out." 

"Well, mom?" Joann asked. 

"Does it seem I have a choice? So when do you want to do this?"

"How about tonight? We could go to the Outback for dinner, then go to the bar." 

"How about the Olive Garden. I like their food better." Mom suggested. 

"Okay. Olive Garden it is. I'll be back here around seven." 

"Why so late? We usually eat around five. You know that."

"Uh, mom. The bars don't get jumping til about ten. What are we going to do for five hours, sit at the Olive Garden?"

"Okay. Okay. Seven it is. But I'm still eating at five." 

"Fine mother. You can get a salad there. More money for drinks."

"Hey!! If you're drinking, I'm driving." I barked to my sister. 

"No problem. You can drive. Okay," Giving mom a kiss. "I'll be back here at seven. Don't chicken out mom. You need this."

I saw mom roll her eyes back as Joann left. She went to the sink, finishing washing the dishes. She stopped in id wash of a plate, just holding the plate in one hand, and the washcloth in the other, but neither touching. I watched as she just stood there like a statue over the sink. 

"Hey, mom. You okay?" Breaking her out of her trance.

"Um. Oh, yeah. Was just daydreaming. That's all." 

"It's going to be okay mom." Rubbing her shoulders. It'll be fun. You'll see. You're tense." Feeling her muscles tightened up. "Come. Sit down over here." Directing her to the kitchen chair. 

"Barry. I'm okay. I'm just a little nervous. That's all." Resisting to sit down. 

"Come on mom. Don't fight it. Let me give your neck and shoulders a rub." 

"Look. If you want to give me a massage, I'm going to lay down. I trust you know how to give a good back rub?" 

Clearing my throat. "Gee. I wonder who it was that rubbed out your leg cramps after a long walk, or jog? Putting my hand on my chin, looking up at the ceiling. 

"Barry, you still can't take a joke can you." Rubbing my upper arm. "Come on. Let's go into the living room."

We walked into the living room. Mom laid down on the couch. Once she was settled, I lifted my leg, kneeling it between her and the back cushion. I gently sat on her legs, not wanting to hurt her. She laid there with her arms under the pillow. I started rubbing her shoulders, and upper back, working my way outward toward her arms.

"Ahhhh! That feels so good. I really needed this. You keep this up and I'm libel to go to sleep." 

"Well I don't want you to do that, but I do want you to relax."

"Oh, I'm getting there Barry. I like the feel of your hands rubbing my shoulders and back." Her tone seductive.

"Okay Mom. That' sounded creepy." Stopping the massage.

"What? That you have nice, strong hands? It's only true. Your massage is really relaxing me. You think I'm getting turned on by this? You're the one that's getting a rise in his pants touching his mother."

"What!!" Now feeling embarrassed. "I am not getting a rise in my pants."

"Don't lie Barry. I can feel you fidgeting on my legs, trying to straighten your dick inside your pants. You're not the first guy to sit on top of me giving me a back rub." 

"Wow!! I Didn't want you to know I was getting a hard-on. Believe me, it's not on purpose. It's just that you are a woman, and..." 

"I know Barry. And you're a man with horny hormones. I'd be worried if you didn't get one." 

"So your not angry?" Looking for some relief. 

"No." She said laughing. I'm not angry. In a way, this reminds me of your father giving me a back rub. He too got very aroused." 

"I remember him giving Joann back rubs too." Going back to her massage. 

"And he too got aroused by her. Sometimes he did that before having sex with me." 

"Ouch!!" I said in disgust of that image. "Is that when things went downhill between you and him?" 

"I guess. I don't know what made our marriage go sour. I only know it did."

"Well like I said mom, you're a very attractive, and loving woman. You'll find a man that will make you very happy."

"Maybe." She closed her eyes, enjoying her rubdown. 

Within minutes of her massage, she was fast asleep. Though I was sporting a massive hard-on, she had enough trust in me that she knew I wasn't going to do anything sexual to her. Even as she slept, I continued to rub her back. She deserved this. Being under so much stress, and now having a low self-esteem, it was good to see her finally relax. I was tempted to lay beside her, comforting her as she did with me as a child when I was sick or had a nightmare. But this was my mom. Not my girlfriend, or wife, or a young, scared daughter. I don't think she would've cared, but even still, it wasn't right. I got off of her carefully, letting her nap for as long as she liked.

Mom was awoken by the ringing of the phone. 

"Hello?" I heard her say after picking up the receiver.

"Oh, hi Joann. It's kind of early to be calling. What's wrong.?" momentary silence. "Yeah? Oh no, no. I understand. Kids get sick unexpectedly. It happens." Another few moments of silence. "Okay. Well, you take care of my little princess. Give them each a hug and kiss for me." Some silence. "Okay, Joann. I'll talk to you later. Bye, sweetie." Hanging up the phone. 

"Barry." She yelled.

I came into the living room. "I heard. What did little Stephanie eat now?" 

"She came down with a fever. So I guess tonight is canceled." 

"Why? You and I can still go out for dinner." 

"Barry. I didn't really feel up to it anyway. I just went along with it to quiet you two up.

"Come on mom. Let's go out for dinner. You and I. Olive Garden. Olive Garden. Olive Garden." I kept saying as I flickered my fingers in her face.

Okay. Okay." Laughing. "You win. Let me shower, and get dressed."

After mom showered, I took mine. I was dressed and ready before she was. I was sitting in the living room, waiting for her to come downstairs. When she did, I couldn't believe my eyes. She was totally gorgeous. As she rounded the turn of the stairs, I could see a pair of sexy legs, covered by black mesh stockings. Followed by a black skirt that came down just above her knees. Then I saw her blouse. A front buttoned zebra striped pattern with a low V neckline. She had her white purse, and cream colored sweater folded around her arm. Her face was made up, looking like a woman in her twenties, She had on the right amount, not looking too slutty. Her hair flowed in the breeze as she walked down the stairs. I did my best cat call whistle as she stepped off the bottom stair. 

"Wow!" I said quick. "You look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm not overdoing it am I?" Placing her purse and sweater on the chair. 

"Well, you just may be the prettiest woman in the place." Still admiring how hot my mom was. 

"Stop." She said blushing. "You sure It's not too much? I can change into something more casual." Ready to head back upstairs.

"No mom. You're fine. Really."

"Okay. It's just that you look so casual." Looking at my patterned, collared polyester shirt, that was opened three buttons deep. Tucked inside black jeans. "Shall we go?"

She picked up her sweater, putting her arm in one sleeve. 

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" I said, stopping her. "Allow me." Holding her sweater, as she placed her arms inside the sleeves. 

She picked up her purse, as I got out my car keys. I opened the door for her. She rubbed my cheek with her hand, as she passed me, walking out the door. We got into the car, heading to the Olive Garden.

We went inside the restaurant. The dining area was only half full when we went up to the the The Maitre D's podium. 

"Hi. Welcome to the Olive Garden. Party of two?" Said the female behind the podium. 

"Yes." Mom answered. 

"Very well then. If you'll follow me, I'll escort you to your table."

She stepped out from behind the podium, leading us to our table. She extended her arm, showing us our table. I pulled mom's seat out, then pushing her chair in as she sat down. Then I sat down, opposite her. We sat and chatted until our waiter came to our table.

"Good evening. I'm your waiter Brandon." Handing us two menus. "Would you care for something to drink?" 

"I'll have a diet coke." Mom said.

"And you sir?"

"Ginger ale." 

"Excellent. I'll be right back with your drinks."

We continued talking as the waiter brought our drinks. 

"Are you ready to order?" He asked.

We placed our order, along with two more glasses of soda. We waited about ten minutes before we got our salads. We both ordered a tossed salad, her with Italian dressing, mine with Catalina French. It was another fifteen minutes after eating our salad, that our meals came to us. 

"Everything alright here? Can I get you more soda?" 

"No. We're good. Thank you." I said to him.

"You enjoy your meal." He smiled and walked away. 

Our dinner was very good. Mom couldn't finish it all, but I, on the other hand, wolfed my dinner down, leaving an empty plate. 

Belch. "Excuse me." Belch. Up came another burp. "Excuse me again." I said releasing the gas build-up from digested food. 

Fortunately, no one bothered to look at me as I expelled the burps from my mouth. Other patrons were too busy eating or having their own conversations. We stayed a bit, letting our bellies digest our meal. Mom got up to use the restroom. Men looked up at her as she walked down the aisle toward the restroom. Some of them smiled as she passed them, giving them a smile back in return. Of course, their wives or girlfriends weren't too pleased. She came back, sitting down. I again held her chair as she did so. 

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  You little shit - Mother son anal and oral incest sex story
Posted by: incest - 10-24-2018, 04:07 PM - Forum: Mom Son Incest Stories - Replies (1)

Heath Wilson was home on leave. Tomorrow morning he would board a plane and report to Fort Bragg, and shortly after that he would be deployed to Afghanistan. Home for Heath was a trailer on the east side of Matlock, Texas; a small town in the Panhandle. He lived with his mother, Jolene, and his younger brother, Jared. They were, to put it bluntly, white trash. The talked like white trash, and they dressed like white trash. But, really, it didn't matter because what happened on the hot, sweltering August night could have happened anywhere to anyone.

Jolene got pregnant and had Heath when she was 17. At 37, the years had taken their toll. She wasn't beautiful, but she could still turn heads despite the crow's feet and the slight paunch that hung over the waist of her low-slung jeans. She bought her clothes at Wal-Mart, and she wore them a size too small. She always had on too much make-up, thinking it made her look younger, not realizing it made her look cheap. After she quit school, she worked at Hooters, then she took some hostess jobs at local restaurants. Once, she even worked as a receptionist at a law firm, but that only lasted a few weeks. Her clothes and looks weren't suited for a downtown business. For the past eight years she worked at Earl Tolson's Used Cars where her duties included answering the phone and dealing with irate customers and horny salesmen. And fucking Earl twice a month.

Before he joined the Army, Heath worked a series of dead-end jobs. He got fired from most of them because he didn't show up, or he showed up drunk, or he picked fights with his boss. 

Jolene was worried and frightened for her son. Most mothers would have tried to spend the last few days with a child headed for a war; she knew that, but she thought a few drinks would steady her nerves. So that Thursday night she went to John's Tavern, intending to have a few beers, but she was rarely able to have a just few beers. More often than not, her trips to a bar ended in someone's bed or backseat. That night was no exception.

It was after midnight when she staggered into the trailer, her clothes disheveled; smelling of beer, cheap perfume and stale cigarettes. She was greeted by the sight of her oldest son surrounded by empty beer cans, watching porn and rubbing himself through his jeans. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What the fuck do you thing I'm doing?" he slurred.

"What if your little brother came home and saw you acting like a goddamn pervert?" she screamed.

"What if my little brother came home and watched his drunken whore of a mother stagger in at midnight?" he screamed back.

"You little shit," she yelled as her hand flew toward his face. Just before it struck he grabbed her wrist. Later, neither of them could say who moved first. They were in each other's arms, their lips pressed together so hard they found bruises in the morning, their tongues were probing each other's mouths. He pushed up her short denim skirt. She fumbled with his belt. He reached under her panties and squeezed her round, fleshy ass. She pulled down his zipper and squeezed his cock through his briefs. 

Did she pull him backwards and fall on the tattered couch, or did he push her down? It really didn't matter. He pushed aside the crotch of her panties and she pulled his dick free. Did she guide him between her swollen lips and into her pussy, or did he slam his hard cock into her? It didn't really matter.

It didn't take long. Bracing his feet on the floor for leverage he rammed his cock into her cunt. She dug her fingernails into his back and wrapped her legs around him, nearly falling off the couch. In less than a minute, he tensed, spilling his cum into her, collapsing on her like a dead weight. She pushed him and rolled from under him. He looked at her and started to say, "Mom, I'm sorry, I...." she glared at him and raised her hand, cutting him off before she turned and went to her bedroom.

* * * * *

The next morning she stood at the counter, drinking her coffee. With her back to him, she said, "Since this is your last night at home, we should all go out to eat. Let's go to La Posada when I get off work. Will you tell your brother when he gets back from his sleep-over? "Sure," he said, "Look, Mom, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. It won't never happen again." She stared at him for a moment, then lit a cigarette and went out the door. As she left, she turned and said, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

That night, in the crowded restaurant, she tried to make small talk, but a 20-year old and a sullen teenager really didn't have a lot to say to a 37 year-old woman. After downing his last bite, Jared, her youngest, said, "Can we go? Matt's coming over to hang out." 

"Matt can wait. This is your brother's last night at home."

Under his breath, Jared muttered, "Fuck him."

"What did you say?"

"Mom, it's all right. Let's go home. Thanks for the dinner."

After dropping Jared off, Jolene said, "Do you want a beer? Let's go to Danny's"

"I'm only 20," Heath protested.

"I've known Danny since we was in the first grade. I think I can persuade him to give you a beer," she laughed.

At the bar, she drew quite a few looks. She was wearing her usual Friday night attire, tight jeans, and a tighter black blouse; the push up bra making her breasts look bigger and firmer than they were. It wasn't uncommon for some of the regulars to end up in the parking lot with her before the night was over, and tonight, Joe Delaney thought he'd try his luck. As she bent over the pool table, he came up behind her and grabbed the cue. "Hey, I've got a bigger stick right here, Jo. Why don't you shoot with it?"

Heath couldn't believe his ears. "What the fuck did you say? That's my mother, you fat prick!" 

Grimes moved toward him and growled, "Go back to North Carolina and play soldier, asshole. Your mom and me got some business."

"Like hell you do," Two punches and it was over. Joe lay sprawled on the green felt table. "Let's get out of here, baby," Jolene said. Passing a 7-11, Jolene said, "Pull in here." A few minutes later, she got back in the pick up carrying a pack of smokes and a couple six packs of beer. "Let's go," she said. 

"Go where?" her son asked.

"It don't matter." 

Heath turned onto the highway and headed south. Jolene popped the top on a can and handed it to him. She opened another one, and lit a cigarette. Neither of them talked. They both knew where they were going. Heath parked the car on in a field overlooking the lake. "Give me a smoke," he said. Lighting it, he took a long drag. Finally Jolene grinned and said, "Is this where you take them girls you go out with?"

Returning her grin he replied, "Sometimes."

"What do you do with 'em?"

"I think you know, " he said.

"What? Tell me."

"You know, we make out, sometimes we do it." 

"Is this where you knocked that up that little slut, Jana?" his mother asked.

"What is this?" he demanded.

Downing one beer, she opened another, and lit her third cigarette. "Just curious." Then, taking a gulp and staring straight ahead, she said, almost in a whisper, "This is where you was conceived. Right down this road."

"Jesus, Mom. I don't need to hear this." He opened another Bud.

She turned her head and studied him for a minute. Then tossing her cigarette butt out the window, and finishing her beer, she reached down and rested her hand on his thigh. "Open another one for me."

"You really don't need no more beer, Mom" Heath said.

"You don't know what the fuck I need, Heath. Give me a goddamn beer." Handing her another beer, she took a large swallow, then set it on the dash. "Or maybe you do know what I need," her hand moving higher, toward his crotch. Leaning into him, he felt her breasts pressing into his arm. "Do you want me to tell you what I need?" 

"Mom....stop..."

But she didn't stop. Her hand moved higher, until it rested on the growing bulge under his jeans. " Shit, baby, I think you know just what I need. Pressing closer, she kissed his neck and squeezed the swollen muscle between his legs. "In fact, I think you need it, too." She took his hand, and guided it to her breast. "You need it. You want it. Don't you?" She began to rub him slowly up and down, then traced her finger over and around him. "C'mon, baby. It's all right." And again, "I need it. I need you. God. Please, baby." She was rubbing him harder. He couldn't help himself. He cupped her heavy breast. "Is this what you did to Jana?" His breath was quickening. "What did she do to you?" She unzipped his tight jeans. She unsnapped them. She ran her hands over his briefs.. "Raise up," she whispered. Bracing against the back of the seat, he lifted his hips and helped her push his jeans down, then his briefs. Finally, his cock sprang out, like a spring under tension. "Jesus," she said, holding it straight up. She began to pump it, slowly. "Did she do this to you?" Did she jack you off? Did she? I'll bet she did." 

He grew even larger. She stopped, and he couldn't help groaning and muttering "Shit," as she let him go. Reaching for her beer, she took another large drink then sank to her knees, squeezing between the seat and the dash. She tugged his jeans and shorts down the rest of the way until they lay pooled at his feet.

She took him in both hands and slowly stroked him from the base, over the swollen veins, to the purple head. She moved her hands back down. Shaking her long hair, she bent lower, and looked in his eyes. "I've been told," she said with a smirk, "that I'm good at this," Then, without warning, she took him deep, then slowly raised her head, her lips gripping him all the way. It was almost more than he could take. Looking up at him, she laughed. Then she took the head in her mouth and swirled her tongue. "Oh fuck," he moaned. Then she took him deep again, and again, and again, fucking him with her mouth; over and over, until he bucked up and down, moaning, swearing, his breath coming in gasps. Then, as suddenly as she started, she stopped and held him upright, not moving, letting him come down from his high. 

He was leaking pre-cum. 'Please."

"Please, what," 

"You know..."

"Tell me."

He bucked up, thrusting his hips. She squeezed the base of his prick, keeping him from his release. She pushed it back until it was pressed against his belly and slowly licked him from the base to the head while still squeezing it. "Tell me. What do you want?"

"Finish me off, damnit. Goddamn it! Let me cum!"

"Not yet. Not yet."

"Shit, goddamn it!."

"Don't cuss at your mother, you little shit!" but she said it with a smile. Then, staring into his eyes, she spit on his hard cock. "Jana never sucked you this good, did she?" He moaned. "Did she," as she swirled the head again."

"No! No!, she never did nothin' like this. Jesus!" His mom looked like a porno star he thought, staring at her through half-closed eyes.

"Slide down." Then she cupped his balls, heavy with cum. She rolled them and tugged on them, all the while alternating between feather kisses, deep throats, and hard, then soft strokes. "You ready, baby?"

"Yes," he hissed between gritted teeth.

"What are you ready for?"

"To fucking cum...to cum....to shoot it...."

"All right." Then she reached even further underneath him and pushed a finger into his tight, puckered hole. "Do it. Do it. Give it to me." 

She felt his legs tighten and his balls swell. She felt his hips thrust off the seat. She saw his eyes squeeze shut, and his mouth clench until he bit his lip. She heard his groans turn into gibberish, then into screams. She felt the first spurt hit the back of her throat. The second, the inside of her cheek, and the third her curled tongue. Pulling back, she smiled. "Feels good, don't it? Do I know how to suck cock, or do I know how I to suck cock," his jizz dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. She reached up and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Take off your T-shirt." He handed it to her, and she used it as a cum rag to clean herself.

Finally, coming back to earth, Heath reached down and pulled his pants up. Jolene sat up and opened two more beers and offered her son a Marlboro, as she lit her own. 

"Mom...what's going on? Why are we doing this?"

Ignoring this, she asked, "Tell me what you're doing in the Army." 

"Mom. Why.."

"Shhhh. Let's just talk. We don't never talk no more."

So they talked. They talked about everything; her worries for Jared, their fears, Heath's future, their dreams. For what seemed like hours they confided in each other like never before. After an awkward silence, Heath said, "I want to ask you something, Mom."

The tone in his voice gave it away. She knew what was coming. "Heath, no. I told you before, you don't need to know....

"Yes I do, Mom. I need to know. Tell me about my dad."

"Heath, you don't need to know nothing about him. I raised you, didn't I. He never helped, not once." 

"But I need to know."

She was silent for a long minute. "Give me another beer."

"You've had enough."

"If I'm going to talk about this, I need another one. He was...he wasn't like me...like us. He lived on the other side of town in a nice house. He drove a nice car. His parents was rich. But still, he liked me. I think he really liked me. I was a junior and he was a senior. We'd go to the movies or out to eat. Or here," she laughed. "But one day, he took me home to meet his folks. They was nice enough, but I could tell, I wasn't nobody they wanted going out with their son. At first, they just tried to keep him busy, or introduce him to popular, country club girls. But he kept seeing me."

"Then I got pregnant. He told his folks, and I guess they went crazy. They asked him how I knew you was his. They had a huge fight. Finally, they gave him a choice. They said he could go to college, become a lawyer or a doctor of some such thing, or he could move in the trailer with me and your grandma. They offered me money and told me I should get rid of you. I told 'em to go to hell. Then he stopped calling me, stopped coming around. He'd see me and cross the street. That fall he went away to college."

"He never saw you again?" Heath asked.

"He called a few times to see how I was doing, before you was born. But I never seen him after that."

"The bastard never paid child support?" 

"His parents showed up one day and talked to your grandma. They said they wanted to do right by me. They told her they'd send her some money every month, or they'd give her $10,000 right then and we'd all be done with each other. It was more money than she'd ever seen."

"So she took it?"

"It's how we got the trailer." 

"What's his name?"

"That, I'm not going to tell you."

"I have a goddamn right to know," he was almost screaming.

"No. Don't ruin tonight." 

Heath backed off. It would be easy enough to find out. There wasn't that many rich people in this little town. He paused and took a few puffs, then threw an empty can out the window. "Mom?"

"What?"

"Did you love him?"

She didn't answer.

"Mom..."

She shut her eyes and finally whispered, through the tears which had begun to flow; "Yes. Yes. I loved him." Heath put his arm around his Mother and held her tightly as sobs racked her body. "I loved him. "I loved him so much. Why didn't he love me, Why?"

"He did. I know he did. He just didn't have no choice." He didn't believe it, but he said it to comfort her. After a long moment he said, "Why, Mom? Why are we doing this?"

Lighting another Marlboro, she stared out the window. "You know I have a reputation around town, don't you?." When he didn't say anything, she said, "Well, it's true. I screw a lot of men. I fuck Earl because I don't want to lose my job. But the rest of 'em...the guys out in the parking lot after the bar closes, the salesmen back in the garage, I...I...fuck them, because I'm lonely. It makes me feel like someone wants me, it makes me feel pretty. And young."

"Mom, you don't need to do that," Heath said softly.

"I just know I'm tired of fucking men. I want to make love to someone. I haven't made love to anyone in a long time. That's why, baby. I love you. I want to make love to you. And with you leaving...I couldn't stand not...not..." she began sobbing again, sobs that came from deep within her soul. 

"Shhhhh. Shhhhh. I love you, Mom. I love you."

"I love you, too, baby. God help me, I love you." 

Then Heath knew. He knew why it happened the night before. He knew why it just happened. Suddenly he knew why it would happen again. He loved her, too; in a way that a son shouldn't love a mother. "Mom, I love you. I mean, I love you. Do you know what I'm saying?"

"Do you, Heath?."

"Make love to me, Mom. Let me make love to you." For the first time, then, they made love. Their kisses were tender and deep. He slowly undressed her, kissing her skin as he opened each button. He slipped her blouse off, then, as he kissed her neck and her shoulders, he pushed the black straps of her push-up bra down her arms. It fell to her waist revealing her large, slightly sagging breasts. He flicked his tongue across her hardening nipples, taking one, then the other, into his mouth, sucking them, before lightly biting them, causing her to gasp with surprise. Unclasping her bra, it floated to the floorboard of the truck. He unbuttoned her jeans. He opened the door, and as she lay on the seat, he stood on the ground and pulled down the zipper and tugged at them, peeling them off. Then he grabbed the waistband of her black panties and rolled them down, dropping them on the ground. 

He touched her, his finger easily sliding into her. Pulling her even closer to him, he looked at her naked body, her pendulous breasts flat against her chest, the slight roll of skin above her hips, and whispered, "You're beautiful... so beautiful." Then, kneeling on the hard Texas clay, he nuzzled the soft inside of her thighs, slowly kissing closer and closer to her pussy. She could feel his warm breath on her lips as he approached her. His fingers were slowly sawing in and out of her swollen cunt, then she bolted almost upright as his mouth closed over her engorged clit, sucking it, then backing away as his tongue rolled over it, then tracing a figure-eight pattern around the sides and over the top. Her hips were thrusting now, rising and falling, her round ass lifting off the seat. She was frantic; his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, playing games with her. She never knew what to expect. He bit her lips, sucked her clit, and plunged his fingers in and out of her, twisting them back and forth. He drove them in as deep as they would go before curling them up to the roof of her pussy and pushing against her G-spot. That, combined with his mouth on her clit and his right thumb rolling around the outside of her asshole, sent her over the edge. She jerked up, grabbed his head, and wrapping her meaty thighs around his neck, she cried into the night, before collapsing back onto the seat. "God," she breathed. 

"I know," Heath said with a smile. With that they both began to laugh. He stood up and bent over her, wrapping his arms around her neck, kissing her, then whispered, "God, I love you....so much." Tears welled up in her eyes, and half laughing, half crying she said, "I know, baby, I know...I love you so much...so much."

Kissing her one last time, he stood up and unsnapped his jeans, and pushed them down, along with his white briefs, and stepped out of them. The full moon allowed her to see her naked son standing before her, his body hardened by two years of Army training. His cock was hard, the head purple and the veins bulging. He felt the hot north Texas wind on his tight, hard ass. Then he stepped forward and grabbed her thighs and pulled her toward him until she was barely on the seat. Reaching over her head, she grabbed the steering wheel to keep from sliding out of the truck. As he pulled her toward him, he stepped closer until his shins hit the step of the pick-up. His swollen glans pressed against her puffy red lips of her cunt, then he thrust his hips forward, and impaled her on his cock. He slowly pushed until his balls touched her ass, then withdrew. She bucked against him. Over and over they thrust, establishing a rhythm of sex. He felt his sac grow heavy and he knew that it would only be a moment before he filled her. Suddenly, she put her hands on his shoulders. "Heath, Heath, stop!" Mustering all the self control he could, he slowed, then stopped, though still buried deep inside her. "Stop for a minute. Pull it out," she said. She pulled her self up and sat on the edge of the seat, facing him. "I want to give you something," she said.

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  Eat bitch eat your son's cum while he fucks your ass
Posted by: incest - 10-24-2018, 03:28 PM - Forum: Mom Son Incest Stories - Replies (18)

It seems surreal as I stand here, I never cared much for funerals but when it's someone close it makes more sense. What doesn't make sense is why we are here. Another senseless murder over drugs, and not really hard drugs, just pot. Why don't they just legalize it? So many lives affected, innocent lives. Just look at my mother. I bet she has never even taken one puff of a joint. Now she is burying her brother over a measly five grand. That and a punk with an itchy finger looking to make a name for himself. Well we'll see how much of a name he has left in prison. 

My name is Mark, the guy they are burying is my uncle Jerry. He was also my source. Jerry was my mother's younger brother. I wouldn't call him a con artist but he was definitely a player, a hustler, oh and a ladies' man. I will turn eighteen in a couple of weeks. I moved some weed at the local college but never at the high school I attended. Too much risk there. Jerry would keep me supplied. I had my stash and then sold the rest. What I didn't smoke left me with some pocket change.

Jerry was the big money man, cars, jewelry, and bitches. He took care of me and I helped him keep a presence on campus. His suppliers were getting pressure from some new cartel. They thought Jerry was moving on. I knew for sure he wasn't. When he was a few grand short he asked for a couple of days to catch up on some collections. He only owed them five grand, I was holding two for him. Everyone knew he was good for it. Everyone but some punk.

My mother was devastated. She knew he was a scoundrel, but as her only sibling Jerry was a big part of her world. Now he's gone. I am surprised she was able to be here without falling apart at the service. Hank is trying to console her but I think even he knows she loved Jerry more than him. 

My younger sister and brother are clueless. Sure they knew him but I was his favorite. He always said I was just like him, only smarter. Even after Hank banished him from the house mom and I always found time to see him. Of course I saw him almost weekly. Standing there in her black dress she looked defeated. I need a joint.

Back at the house I rolled one, the gathering downstairs is mostly relatives. I was upstairs facing the window. I looked over the large lot we had, the fan dispersing the smoke outside. I finished just before I heard someone on the stairs. I could tell from her gait it was my mother. I quickly grabbed some mouthwash and with nowhere to spit swallowed it. Tastes like shit. I moved the fan just as she knocked on the door.

"Our guests are leaving please come down and say your goodbyes." She asked. Normally I would protest but I could see the toll the last few days has taken.

"Sure!" I offered.

If Sandy knew I lit one up she made no issue of it. We had a deal no smoking dope on our property. She always said it was because of my brother and sister but I think she hoped I would quit. Fat chance! Still, I did feel a bit guilty for doing it today of all days. 

Sandy my mom and I seemed to have a special kind of bond. It wasn't like she loved me more than the twins, she wouldn't allow that. No, it was a different kind of look she gave me, it was the same look she gave Jerry. 

Years ago I wondered why she even let me be around Jerry. I'm still not 100% positive but now that he's gone I have little doubt. Sandy was at the door asking me to come down. I didn't see that look I used to get. I missed it. Jerry was gone and so was the bond mom and I shared. Somehow I need to get that back. 

Hank ordered pizza for dinner I wanted another joint.

The next couple weeks were a shit for me. It was clear I wouldn't be graduating. The cops were still investigating the shooting. Someone still wanted their money and I was turning eighteen. The last is significant because if I get caught with the stash I have right now it's a felony and I am now an adult. The good news is my mom held a birthday party for me. Oh joy!

I cut school one more time. It was too dangerous to be pushing at the campus and since Jerry is gone all of his friends and bitches have scattered. Too bad. I got use to the perks of being with Jerry, unlimited sex.

I noticed Hank's truck in the drive with mom's car beside it. I pulled my car into the neighbors drive behind the house so it couldn't be seen. Hank usually always worked until three thirty and then mom leaves for her job. Since it was only two, something must be up.

I decided to head around back and hole up near the garage. I could see her standing there in her house clothes. God the woman could use some fashion help. Sweat pants and an old button down plaid shirt with the arms cut off at the shoulders. She has never been a beauty queen but even if she was you wouldn't know it.

Three kids and ten years of waiting tables must take its toll. Still if she lost about twenty pounds, styled her hair, wore some makeup it would make a big difference. Being on her feet five to six days a week has kept her legs toned her ass firm. I have never seen her tits but they must be a large B or small C cup. I know they droop. Probably from having three kids suck the life from them but properly displayed they fill out a sweater. That I have seen, unfortunately not in a long time. 

"Sandy I just know what I heard at the courthouse." Hank said animated. "If they come here with a warrant and ask to search this house there isn't a thing you or I can do! Sandy they have been casing this thing for years. Getting names, contacts, planting undercover agents. They don't care about a small player like Mark! They want the big players!" Hank explained.

"They know by waiting for just the right time they can nab the pawns and turn them into snitches. Do you know what happens to snitches? Even if they let him go the suppliers may take action just to make sure he doesn't talk in the future!" Hank was almost yelling now.

"I know how much your brother meant to you and how Mark is, but I will not jeopardize the well-being of Matt and Kit for that worthless pot head." Hank dissed me. "The kid is so fucking smart, too smart for his own good. Won't go to school, won't come back to work, and quit all of his sports teams. For what? To get high? Great, I get it, he wants to be another Jerry, but if you don't change him I swear to god I will kick his sorry ass out of this house too!"

"Hank please..." Mom tried to cut in. 

"We have worked way too long and too hard to lose it over his, his... I fucking don't know what to call it? The mid eighteen year old crisis? I know he's your favorite and I know you just lost Jerry, which isn't fair, I get it, but what have the other kids done to deserve this? They should have a fair shot at a good life. Look all I know is the cops are putting in a lot of overtime, they have something going on. Do you understand?"

"Hank I hear you. I know you're right, but this is our son! I just can't kick him out!" Mom pleaded.

"If I don't see progress soon it's him or me! And if it's him you can expect a big fight over Kit and Matt. I have already talked to Mr. Wilson, he is giving me his backing. I have a great unit I can move into. We both know you will lose this place on your salary." He walked to the sliding door, I moved back further into the garage. I could hear mom crying. "Fuck, he still has not even cut the grass! Sandy, I need your help!"

I sat down and waited until I heard him drive off. Leaving the way I came I called some friends and headed over to see them. I needed a joint. I needed to think!

I drove home. I was still a little buzzed but when I saw mom's car was in the drive and Hank's was gone I sobered up quick. Friday night is the best night for mom, there is no way she would have stayed home. I walked in the house it was eerily quiet. I could find no one so I went up the stairs into my room. Everything looked normal, clothes strewn everywhere. Empty bottles, school books, Play Station, all just as I left it in a mess. Then I almost passed out. There on my bed was my stash! Along with it my back up stash, my money and worst of all a pair of my mother's panties and some adult magazines. The drugs and money was one problem. I could lie and say that I was holding them for Jerry. The panties and smut, well there is no easy way to blame that on someone else. I saw movement in the corner of the mirror. Turning she was standing there.

SMACK! Jesus Christ she just slapped me across the face.

"Tonight!" Sandy hissed. Her eyes pierced me like hot irons.

"But..." I tried to explain. SMACK! Fuck she did it again.

"Tonight!" repeated. Mom turned and looked at the luggage setting in the hall, then back at the bed. "You decide."

Mom turned and walked into her bedroom and locked the door. 

I wasn't sure if she was kicking me out and wanted the stuff gone or just the stuff gone. I guessed the later, time will tell. I grabbed all of the shit except the panties and magazines and headed outside. I hopped in my car and drove slowly trying to think of a plan. 

Dialing my phone it was dead. No service was across the screen. Fuck! Hank turned my phone off. The only place I could think of was one friend of Jerry's I had fucked a few times. It was still early enough Suzanne might be home. Luckily she was. Using her phone I made a few calls.

"Do we have time for some fun?" She whispered. I looked at the clock. 

" I think we have time, they want to get their shit together." I replied. 

"I go first!" She teased back. 

We have had a few encounters before but only when Jerry was around. This time it just seemed to fall in place. I started removing her top, Suzanne squealed as I latched onto her fat nipple. With time to spare I took my time alternating between the two. She let me feast on her tits as she leaned her head back and presented them proudly. She slipped from my lap and let me watch her do a strip tease for me. 

I stood and removed my clothes, she moved in and stroked my cock. I handed her a condom, my rule for engagement. She opened it and rolled it over my straining cock. 

"Well what are you waiting for?" She laughed. 

Suzanne straddled my lap guiding it in her tight pussy. Slowly she just kept working it deeper a little at a time. 

"I love when you do that!" She hissed. "God you're so big!" 

"Or you're too tight!" I countered.

"Jerry didn't think so!" Suzanne leaned back offering her tits again. I sucked one in and she cooed. "I love it when you suck them, maybe I should be on top?" 

"Lie back and let me see?" I teased.

She moved off me so I could change positions then guided my cock back in her cunt. Suzanne rode me for a good amount of time her pussy now sloshing with her excitement. I watched her massive tits defy gravity and bounce on her chest. She worked her hand over her clit while she drove down hard on my cock. She looked at me through half closed eyes as the first tremors started to build. 

"Fuck me Mark!" She begged. I pushed up as she slammed down, her pussy spread as her fingers rubbed her clit. Suzanne was cumming on my cock. She thrust forward laying on top of me, she clamped her legs over mine trapping my cock. Her breathing became more normal as she laid there, my cock still hard inside. "Did you want to cum?" She teased.

Suzanne moved forward my cock slipping from her pussy. 

"I think I could get use to this!" She giggled. "My pussy sure loves it." 

Suzanne moved back on top and guided my cock back in her cunt. She moved slowly massaging her tits and reaching behind to play with my balls. She never picked up the pace until I moaned my approval. Then just slightly she leaned forward. Bracing her upper body on straight arms she lifted her ass. My hard cock just inside the opening of her sex. 

"Fuck my greedy pussy Mark! Let me watch you fill me up." She hissed. 

We both watched as I fucked her from below. I was just on the edge, Suzanne sensed my need to cum. She pulled off and ripped the condom from my cock. Stroking me I started to cum. 

"AAAAHHHHGGGHH!" I shouted wishing I was back in her pussy. 

She pointed me to her chest as I coated her massive tits with my cum. She sat up and rubbed it in her tits making them glisten. Happy with herself she shot me a happy smile. 

"Follow me big guy." Suzanne led me to the bathroom so we could get cleaned up. 

I left Suzanne at her place and started out to face Jerry's suppliers. I had a smile when I left but that would soon fade. I met with a contact I knew through my uncle. He agreed to put me in contact with the right people.

A meeting was set up, everyone is on edge, even paranoid. They made me drive around two different blocks looking for a tail. The coast was clear. I am dealing with lower rungs of the ladder. I know I need to see at least a middle of the ladder guy, otherwise they could rip me off and say I never came through. Luckily I recognized one guy Jerry had dealt with. 

They made me strip to my briefs looking for a wire. Like I said paranoid. The cash I handed over and the weed I returned wasn't enough. They wanted another grand. I tried to explain my situation without involving my parents but these people make their own rules.

Then they kicked the shit out of me just to make their point. I have played contact sports and have been roughed up, but this was a good old ass whoopin. They had lost a big time distributor in my uncle and now they were losing me. These people don't take kindly to bad news

When I got home I fell on my bed and passed out.

"Get up!" It was my mother she was at my bedside in her robe.

I looked at the clock it was five am. Now I point this out for two reasons. My mother works to eleven or twelve o'clock most nights and then every morning she gets up at five to make Hank breakfast. When he leaves she goes back to bed. Every morning for almost twenty years. The second is I don't.

'But it..." SMACK! Christ that hurts, especially after last night's beating.

"Get up!" Sandy repeated.

Without a word I slowly pealed my lanky frame from the bed. She could see clearly the bruises I suffered. If she cared she didn't show it. Turning she led the way to the bathroom. Mom handed me a clear plastic cup.

"Pee in it!" She commanded.

SERIOUSLY? Did she just tell me to pee in a cup? I looked to her but knew better than to say a word by now. Her stance confirmed the command. Turning to hide my morning wood I wasn't sure if I could even hit the cup.

"So I can watch!" Sandy said firmly.

What the fuck is she talking about? She wants to watch? I turned and dropped my briefs on the floor. Naked my cock is clearly on display. I thought I heard a slight gasp. I tried to bend the fat sucker down but with her watching and first thing in the morning this was going to be a challenge. 

Sandy stood firm. I closed my eyes and willed it soft it took some time but eventually I filled the cup half full. Setting it on the counter I aimed into the toilet bowl and finished empting my bladder. 

Mom had bent down to pick up my briefs. As I turned to face her again my cock now limp. She stood up her face mere inches from my penis. Mom flinched. Looking at my briefs I could see the dried cum from last night's fuck, I think she did too. Throwing the briefs in the hamper she turned to me her nipples clearly hard beneath the robe.

"Take a shower you stink!" Sandy commanded, then she walked out. 

My mother didn't even inquire about the bruises covering my body. I was tired and very sore but hard again. On the bed were the panties and the magazines I had not disposed of. There was also a note. 

1.Clean room.

2.Do laundry.

3.Cut grass.

She was waiting in the kitchen with my breakfast. 

Not a word was spoken. Getting the hint I cleared my own dishes.

I worked in my room but fucked off most of it. I will wear her down I thought. I went down to lunch and she was nowhere to be found. I raided the fridge and headed back to my room. I straighten up a few things but the game consul was calling my name. About two she came into my room. The look wasn't a happy one.

"Strip now!" Sandy yelled.

She was pissed for sure. I was just about to complain but my face still hurt from before.

"Go in the bathroom close the door and wait for me. On the counter was a test for drugs left from this morning. I clearly failed the test with only one line on the strip. Through the door I could hear her move around then after about twenty minutes she knocked. I opened the door walking to my room was a new list setting on the panties and magazines. This time cutting grass was on top. Then cleaning the room, the washing was crossed off.

I was looking for something to wear. 

"Where are ..." SMACK! The fucking bitch did it again.

"I suggest you get the grass cut before dark or you will be sleeping on it." Sandy was still pissed.

Looking at her panties I had hidden away she nodded to them. "You can wear them. The other clothes belong to your father. I bought these I will loan them to you for now. I suggest you get cracking." She explained. 

Too stunned to say a word if I dared, I looked at the silk panties. They were pink.

Thank god the neighbors on one side of the house were gone for the day. The other was an old man whose family room was on the far side. The back part of the yard is secluded but the front was another story. Yes I cut the grass in my mother's pink panties. 

Not delicate ones, full sized but still too small. When I stopped to fill the mower with gas I found my father's coveralls. They were too short but I was desperate. Heading to the front I noticed my car was gone. Holy Shit! What is going on here? Then it hit me. He told her to fix it or he would. If she wanted my attention she has it now.

I contemplated my options but they were few. Well at least the grass was cut. There was a wet spot where my stiff cock seeped precum. I put the mower in the garage and hung up his coveralls. Entering the house mother was waiting for me. Sandy seemed amused by the stiff cock I was still sporting and the spot clearly getting larger. I turned red but she didn't say a word. 

In front of her was a pair of briefs, shorts, and a shirt all dirty. With her finger she pointed to the basement. Grabbing the clothes I followed. On the washer I found instructions. I placed the items in the washer but she didn't move. Looking at the silk panties I was wearing she nodded. I took them off tossing them in the washer. Getting an eyeful again she calmly turned and walked up the stairs.

When my clothes were washed and dried I slipped them on and folded the panties carrying them up with me. She was in the kitchen waiting. Sandy slipped a piece of paper across the table. 

'Bring your computer and game consul to the dining room set it up on the desk' it read. I looked at her, she smiled but said nothing. This was cruel and unusual punishment! If I was in the dining room everyone could see what was on the screen.

Still I did as she demanded. She turned it on and opened the history. There were all of the porno sights I had looked at. One by one she opened them while I sat beside her. More than once I could hear her take a deep gulp of air. The one with mature women seemed to surprise her the most. What can I say I like them young but a little of experience never hurts. Mom deleted the history and then placed an eraser disc in the drive. The computer was going to be sterile. What a shame.

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  Brother and sister fall in incest love and lust
Posted by: incest - 10-24-2018, 02:37 PM - Forum: Brother Sister Incest Stories - Replies (35)

Preface 

Tyler, Texas 

April 1980 

Over the last few years, Laura has been after Regina and me to sit down and put the story of our lives together – as we've already recounted it to both her and Harry – into something of a more permanent form, be it handwritten journal or a word-processor file, so that – as years pass – our tale will not be lost to our grandchildren and beyond. 

"Harry an' I can tell parts of it," she explained, when we asked for her reasoning, "but there's just no way either he or I can manage t' capture the words you used – or some o' the expressions – when you've told the story t' us. Your grandchildren deserve t' at least be able t' read it in your own words, when they're old enough t' understand the special love that the two o' you have shared, for so many years ..." 

I suppose we've dallied long enough, in getting 'round to this, and we're most certainly not getting any younger, so it's time, at last. 

Though I was raised on jazz and 'Big Band' music, I've tried to remain open to the newer styles, and confess to having developed an appreciation for the works of several of my former (given that I was born in England) fellow countrymen – the Beatles – as Harry brought their music into our home in his younger years. That appreciation extended to their individual works, after the band split apart in 1969. 

As I sit here at the computer to begin this task, I'm reminded – with a soft smile – of a few lines from one of Paul McCartney's lesser-known tunes, "Backwards Traveler": 

"Hey, don't you know that I'm... always going back in time 

Rhyming slang; auld lang syne, my dears, through the years... 

I am the Backwards Traveler – ancient wool unraveler..." 

And, with that introduction, allow both Regina and me to unravel some ancient wool and spin you the tale of our lives, together – through good times and bad... 

– Harrison & Regina Richards April 1980 

Prelude – "After the party..." 

1 July 1967 

Tyler, Texas 

Regina: 

"You drive safe," I told my son as I gave him a hug and my customary quick peck on his lips, bidding him goodbye as he headed out the door. He was off to Houston, to meet up with a few of his college buddies and take in a Sunday afternoon game between the Astros and the Los Angeles Dodgers, at the Astrodome. 

"I will, Mum," he smiled back at me. He pulled me close for another hug, and then let go of me. 

"I made you a thermos of coffee," Harrison said, coming from the kitchen. "You've got a five-hour drive ahead of you, and you've been up since early, this morning. I don't want you falling asleep, at the wheel!" 

"I'll be careful, Dad," Harry laughed softly. "I'm wide awake, and kind of 'wired,' at the moment, after this afternoon and evening." 

"Well, try and keep your mind on your driving, more so than that pretty girl you spent the afternoon and evening with," I chuckled. 

"And be aware of the fact that the 'wired' feeling you've got is most likely adrenalin, and it can wear off pretty quickly," Harrison cautioned him. "That's why I made the coffee, for you." 

I watched, then as Harry picked up the rucksack that held his toilet kit and a change of clothes, and headed off down the front walk toward his car. With Harrison's arm wrapped rather possessively around my waist, I continued to watch until the car's taillights vanished into the night at the far end of our lane. 

"I think everything went well, today, don't you?" I commented, as I turned in my husband's arms and stole a brief kiss, flicking his tongue with mine in a 'there, and gone again' tease that left him raising his eyebrows in eager anticipation of what might follow. Slowly pulling free of him, I moved away from the door and into the living room, allowing him to close and lock the door behind us. 

"The party was certainly a big success," I offered, letting him wonder if I was about to start a conversation or move directly to follow my kiss with something even more enjoyable. 

The big 'July 4th' barbecue that we'd held, for all of our employees and subcontractors, had been a stellar success. It had ended some three hours earlier, and the bulk of the clean up had already been taken care of. The rental company would be by, in the morning, with a couple trucks and a crew to pack up the folding tables and chairs and take down the massive dining tent we'd rented for the party, but everything else was done, for the night. 

As the last of our other guests had taken their leave, we'd invited the three Davidsons – Mike and Mandy, together with Mike's sister, Laura – to stay and visit with us for a while longer. The business relationship that Harrison had entered into with A&M Woodworks, the cabinetmaking company that the Davidsons owned – providing custom kitchen and bathroom cabinetry for the houses our company built – had apparently evolved into a sort of friendship between Harrison and Mike. And, after meeting Mandy, I found her to be a delightful young woman, and we had begun the process of developing a friendship of our own, during the afternoon. We'd wanted some private time to visit with them, without the press of attending to all of our other guests getting in the way of relaxed and enjoyable conversation. 

Laura Davidson had been an absolute delight, to meet. She appeared to have a natural gift, almost an intuitive flair, for interior design, and had decided to pursue that as a career choice following her graduation from high school, a few weeks earlier. After a lengthy chat with her – and after getting a look at the absolutely amazing portfolio of drawings she'd brought with her, for our talk – I couldn't wait to begin mentoring her and getting her deeply involved in the interior design aspect of the home-construction business my husband and I operated. 

And the way Harry and Laura had 'paired off,' almost from the very second Mandy and I'd introduced the two to each other? I simply couldn't recall a time when I'd seen our shy, studious son paying such rapt attention to a member of the opposite sex. I chuckled softly to myself as I recalled the way Laura had paid attention to Harry, as well. It appeared that there was at least some small 'spark' between those two and, personally, I couldn't wait to see what happened, between them. It was a stroke of pure fortune, that I'd be working with Laura in the weeks to come, while Harrison had managed to talk Mike into giving Harry an apprentice position at the cabinet shop, so that he could learn that aspect of home construction during the remainder of the summer. Those two situations would certainly give Harry and Laura plenty of opportunities to 'bump into' each other. 

And I hoped they would run across each other – repeatedly – until one or the other of them worked up the nerve to suggest getting together to actually do something, and that the 'spark' I'd seen flash between them, that evening, grew into a flame. With all modesty, I knew my son was fairly handsome, and Laura was – as the local expression put it – 'as pretty as the day is, long,' bearing an astonishing resemblance to actress Gene Tierney, in her younger days. 

Both of them had level heads on their shoulders and knew what they wanted, out of life, and neither one seemed to be at all concerned about the amount of work involved in order to get where they wanted to go. In my opinion, they were absolutely perfect, for each other – and any woman who's birthed and raised at least one boy knows that a mother can be very picky with regard to a girl who's good enough to marry her son! 

"What are you chuckling about?" Harrison asked me as I crossed the room to the table where his humidor sat, extracting a robusto and preparing it for smoking. 

"Harry," I told him, chuckling again. "Did you see the way his eyes were all alight, spending time with Laura Davidson, today?" 

"Of course, Reggie," he laughed. "I'm not sure that even a blind man could have missed the way those two took to each other. And Harry's comment, about being 'wired,' was pretty informative, too. I think he was practically walking on air over having met her, and over the idea that – if you take Laura under your wing as an apprentice, the way you were talking about doing, and he's going to be working for Mike – they'll have plenty of chances to see each other, over the remainder of the summer." 

"True enough," I agreed, lifting the cigar to my lips. "Light me, Baby?" 

Harrison smiled as he pulled the Zippo from his pocket and offered me a light. I puffed at the cigar until it was going well, and then took a drag, letting the smoke linger in my open mouth for a moment – almost, but not quite, escaping – before I inhaled it. It was something I'd seen in many a movie – a trick practiced by quite a few of the great 'sultry sirens' of the silver screen, whenever the script called for a sexual tension (which quite obviously could not be portrayed more blatantly, on the screen) to be smoldering between the male and female leads. 

I was a firm believer in that old adage, All's fair, in love and war, and I never hesitated to use any and all means at my disposal to bring about my desired goal, where Harrison was concerned. I'd learned, while I was still eighteen, that my playing with my smoke in this manner brought exactly the desired measure of arousal to life, in him. He loved to watch me, when I was in this sort of 'playful' mood, and I adored feeling the heat of his gaze and seeing the spark of desire flare to life in those sea-green eyes of his. 

"Didn't you tease me enough, with that little trick, while Mike and Mandy were visiting, tonight, Baby?" he asked me, grinning. "What if either of them had caught you, puffing your cigar in such a sultry manner?" 

"I'm not sure, about Mike, because he seems to be one of those truly rare men who – like you – only has eyes for his wife," I giggled, "but I'm positive that Mandy, at least, caught me, doing it. Didn't you take note that she puffed at her cigar in exactly the same way, a few times, when Mike was looking at her? I have a sneaking suspicion that they're a lot more like you and I are, than either of us might have figured, at first meeting, love." 

"What makes you say that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Through the years we've been together, I've seldom been wrong in my estimation of the people we've met and worked with, and he'd come to trust my judgment in that regard. 

"Darling, they plainly admitted to us that – just like you – Mike becomes quite aroused, watching his adorable wife smoke a big, thick cigar, and Mandy loves to play to that part of him, because it gets her precisely what she wants! How much closer to the way you and I are, with each other, can you get?" 

"I can think of one, at least, Reggie," he grinned at me. 

"I suppose you're right, Darling," I giggled, "but it's a rare girl, indeed, who is lucky enough to know the pleasures of having her very own brother as her husband and life-long lover." 

"Speaking of which, you've had me on 'simmer' all evening, Sis," he growled in that low, heated tone his voice always takes on when he's as aroused as he can get, without doing something about it, "and I'm fast approaching the point of boiling over, so I hope you have plans on finishing what you've started!" 

"Of course I do, big brother!" I laughed, dropping a hand to cup the burgeoning lump in his crotch and flashing him a saucy wink that made his eyes roll upward in their sockets. "Race you to the bedroom?" 

"Race, my arse, little sister!" he laughed with sinister intent as he picked me up, draped my body over his shoulder, and carried me down the hallway toward the bedroom we shared. 

"Oh, hell, yes, Baby!" I let loose a groan of arousal that was mixed with a squeal of pure delight. I simply adore it, when my husband goes all 'cave man' with me! 

As he slowly carried me back the hallway to our bedroom, taking care not to bump me into a wall, my mind drifted back – as it often does, in such moments – to the days when our forbidden passion for each other was new, and our lifetime of loving together was only just beginning... 

*** 

Chapter 1 – "Designs on Her Brother..." 

7 October 1939 

Lima, Ohio 

Regina: 

The long day was finally over, at last. 

It had begun, that morning, with the memorial service for Mum and Dad. The funeral home had accepted the invitation of the local Masonic lodge, to use their auditorium, since – between Dad's co-workers, his lodge brothers, and the group of Mum's friends who expressed a desire to attend – neither the mortuary nor any of the nearby churches had a space large enough to accommodate the gathering. Following the memorial came the drive to the cemetery for the graveside interment service. After that, there had been the obligatory luncheon, back at the lodge hall, and a chain of seemingly endless, melancholy conversations with people who'd known either Mum or Dad, or both, and who wanted to express their sympathies for our loss. 

The family car was a mangled pile of junk at some Illinois scrap yard, in the wake of the accident that had claimed Dad's life, and Mum's. They'd been scarcely an hour's drive out of Chicago, returning to Lima after spending a week at a safety standards conference for steam engine designers that Dad's employer – Lima Locomotive Works – had sent him to attend, when tragedy struck. 

It was raining lightly, and they'd rounded a bend in the road to find their car abruptly confronted by a heavily laden freight truck, the driver of which had been too many hours behind the wheel, and had dozed off. The truck drifted left across the center of the road and into the other lane. The impact had apparently been tremendous, and the funeral service had required closed caskets, due to the severity of the injuries our parents had suffered when they were propelled through the windscreen. 

As an additional result of the accident, we'd been left without a car in which to get around, and Harry and I had been cadging rides from friends or caring neighbors, for things like trips to the market for a few essential items. Neighbors had thoughtfully provided soup and sandwiches for our lunches, and casseroles of one kind or another, for our dinners, the entire time. In Harry's case, he'd needed to catch the bus into downtown for a few important errands. It was Jeff Roberts who'd offered us transportation everywhere, that Saturday, though, and he gave us a ride home when the luncheon mercifully ended. 

Jeff was actually the reason that Harry and I were growing up in safety, in America, and not sitting in a flat in England, worrying when Hitler would decide to send his Luftwaffe across the Channel to bomb our cities and hamlets. He and Dad had met in London, shortly before they'd both been shipped to France in the latter half of 'The Great War.' They'd been paired with each other, assigned to repair as many of the damaged or sabotaged French railway locomotives as they could, in order to use the rail system to move troops and war materiel closer to The Front. 

It's strange, how things can change over time. What had been known as 'The Great War' or 'The War to End All Wars' would be relegated to being known simply as 'World War I' in a little over a year, as the conflict now raining devastation on western Europe finally spilled over – fueled by Adolf Hitler's ruthless, relentless ambitions – to embroil the entire word in destruction and bloodshed. 

At the end of many an exhaustingly long day, sweating over the recalcitrant French railway steam engines, Dad and Jeff had relaxed over wine and cigars in a nearby bistro, quietly exchanging stories about 'life back home'. Jeff's tales of life in America – the land of opportunity, as he called it – had fired Dad's imagination and forced him to realize that he'd been stagnating in his pre-war employment with a British locomotive-builder in Swindon, a small town some ninety miles northwest of London. 

Thus, when – about a year after the end of the war – a telegram had arrived at the home that Dad now shared with his new bride, Eloise, offering him lucrative employment designing engines for the Lima Locomotive Works, Dad had readily accepted. A short time later, Dad and Mum – with my infant older brother in their arms – arrived at Ellis Island to begin the next chapter of their lives. I came along a little over a year later. 

Jeff spent a couple hours at our house – part of a steady stream of 'drop-ins' looking to express their condolences, and the last to take his leave – chatting with us and spinning stories that neither Harry nor I had ever heard, about the things he and Dad had gotten up to, first in London, and then in France, but he had to eventually head home to his wife, and Harrison and I were finally alone. 

Harry changed out of his suit into denims and a plaid shirt, and retreated to Dad's study, spending about an hour there. When I looked in on him, periodically, he was scribbling away, madly, on a yellow legal tablet and punching numbers into Dad's old adding machine. I never stayed long, on those visits since the smell of his cigarette smoke drove me half-mad with cravings. 

I wanted one desperately, but he'd been away at college for the semester, already, when I'd gotten Mum to let me try smoking for the first time, and had taken a liking to it. He'd been home for over a week, dealing with things in the wake of our parents' death, and I had yet to actually light up in front of him. Instead, I'd been resorting to long solitary walks "to deal with my grief" when my need for a smoke became too much to endure. Despite the close nature of our relationship, I had somehow come by the irrational idea that he'd tease me, about it or – worse – disapprove of my smoking. With everything else that I was dealing with, at the moment, I simply knew I would not be able to handle that. 

Eventually, he came out to the sitting room and took a seat at one end of the couch, turning on the lamp on the end table, there. He had a couple sheets of the yellow tablet paper, covered in neat lines of text and columns of figures, all in that near-perfect penmanship he'd acquired in years of drafting classes.

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  Are you fucking my son or not - Mom son night of incestuous sex
Posted by: incest - 10-24-2018, 02:26 PM - Forum: Mom Son Incest Stories - Replies (3)

Lauren's high heels click-clacked on the polished marble, as she marched down the hall, descended the three steps which divided the spacious gleaming kitchen from the open lounge space below and then unceremoniously dumped her overcoat and her handbag on the nearest lounge chair. She looked around briefly; feeling dissatisfied in general and then walked across to the bar, picked up a glass, shovelled ice into it and then poured herself a double bourbon. She turned away from the bar, kicking off her heels and then walked across the lounge-room while sipping her drink until she reached the open glass doors, which led out onto the patio and then downstairs to the pool complex and tennis courts below. 

Sure enough Lauren's son Ben was downstairs in the pool complex area and his girlfriend Amy was with him. The two of them were lying stretched out on their towels, working on their suntans after an early afternoon swim. Lauren firmly set her glass down on the table next to her with a sharp crack and bourbon sloshed and ran across the marble tabletop. She fished around in her jacket and pulled out her cigarette case and lighter, opened the case and stuck a cigarette between her lips and lit up. 

"Why is that little bitch always here," Lauren hissed after dragging deeply on the cigarette and exhaling. 

She looked down at Ben and Amy as she smoked and drank, trying to calm down. Ben and Amy were just lying there on the soft grass besides the pool, but then Amy reached out and took Ben's hand in hers and Lauren grew angrier. Lauren had cancelled an important meeting at work, had left the office early to come home to check up on Ben and sure enough he was here at home with that little bitch again. Lauren had done this four times in the last month, including today – she had annoyed her clients, had annoyed the other partners, had juggled all her appointments, just so she could get home early, desperate to see Ben and each time she had found that little bitch in her house with her son. 

There was a moment when Lauren was all ready to storm out the back and confront Ben and the little bitch, but she decided to call her sister Chloe instead – Chloe was Lauren's rock. 

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Lauren demanded quietly, while crushing out the cigarette and peering down at her son again. 

She turned away from the open glass doors and walked through the lounge-room and up the stairs, as she drained the remaining bourbon from her glass, the phone still ringing. Then Lauren's sister picked up the phone. 

"Hello Chloe?" 

"Yes, is that you Lauren?" 

"Yes, it's me – I came home early again today and that little bitch is here again with Ben." 

"You left early again, won't you get in trouble," Chloe asked. 

"Don't worry about work Chloe," Lauren hissed and then her tone of voice became more desperate, "Do you think Ben is actually fucking that little bitch?" 

"Probably Lauren, he is nearly 21 now." 

"So, he's fucking her," Lauren said venomously, her voice becoming shrill and then Lauren's voice broke and she started crying. She pleaded with her sister: "What am I going to do? What am I going to do Chloe?" 

"I don't know Lauren, have you talked to Ben," Chloe asked wearily, "have you told him how you feel about him Lauren?" 

"No, what am I supposed to say Chloe? Oh guess what kid, your mom's got a small problem, she's in love with you - didn't you know. I should be locked up somewhere Chloe, I must be sick." 

"Look. You're not sick Lauren, you're just being human like everyone else – it's just, well you know, very unusual. You're going to have to do something Lauren. I still think you should go to counselling or see someone - you need to get some help honey. It's not the healthiest option." 

"God, you must think I'm crazy," Lauren said, still sobbing into the phone. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore." 

"Just tell him how you feel Lauren; Ben's turned into a real nice guy, due to you. He may even feel the same way you do." 

"Yes, maybe – god I don't know, maybe you're right. I'll talk to him about it." 

"Good Lauren and don't drink too much before you do, okay. And for goodness sakes don't push him or make him feel uncomfortable." 

"Yes okay mom," Lauren said. 

"Look I have to run Lauren – I have to pick up Uncle Michael from the hospital and then I have to get back to work. I'll call you tomorrow at lunch, okay?" 

"Sure Chloe – look I'm sorry for calling you like this. Thanks, hey." 

"No problems Lauren – I'll call you tomorrow. Bye." 

Lauren sighed and hung up. She then walked back to the open glass doors and looked out into the back. Ben and Amy were back in the pool and they were laughing. Lauren took another cigarette from her case and lit up and sucked in the smoke, feeling bitter and unhappy as Amy kissed Ben in the pool, taking the young man in her arms. 

"You fucking little bitch," Lauren muttered, unable to watch anymore - she went and poured herself another glass of bourbon. 

By the time Ben and Amy came back inside the house from their swim an hour and a half later, Lauren was well on her way to inebriation, yet another glass of bourbon in her hand. She was lying back on a lounge chair, her jacket off, her blouse unbuttoned and her tight skirt crumpled. 

"Oh hello Lauren," Amy said warily, on her guard. 

"Hi mom, I didn't know you got home early," Ben said, his eyes drifting up and down Lauren's body, noting that his mother's skirt was pulled up, so he could see her long legs and that her blouse was open in the front, so he could see the edges of her bra. 

Lauren got to her feet and smoothed and adjusted her skirt. She lifted the glass to her lips and drank, finishing it. 

"So, are you sleeping with my son," she asked Amy pointedly. 

"Lauren, that's none of your business," Amy replied. 

"Mom?" 

"You stay out of this Ben; you're in enough trouble already," Lauren said softly, swaying. She then turned back to Amy. "Well, are you fucking my son or not?" 

"Ben I'm leaving," Amy stated angrily. "You need to talk to your mother and sort this out." 

"Yes, go, go," Lauren returned softly, waving her hand in Amy's direction. 

Ben's girlfriend looked at Lauren for a moment upset and then stormed out of the house with Ben in pursuit. Five minutes later Ben was back. 

"Mom, why did you do that for?" 

"I don't like that girl Ben, I think she's bad for you and I don't want you to see her anymore." 

"Mom, I can see who I like – I'm almost 21." 

"I don't care," Lauren said, heading to the bar to get another drink. "As long as you're living under this roof you'll do as you're told." 

"Well that's unfair," Ben said and then shot back,"well Amy wants me to move in with her, so maybe I will now." 

"Excuse me – you're father and I spent a lot of time and money helping you get into a good college, and what, now you're going to blow it all by moving in with that little bitch. She'll ruin your life." 

"Mom," Ben said, growing really angry. 

"Are you fucking her Ben, is that it?" 

"Yes I am and it's none of your business mom!" 

Lauren finished pouring her drink and sat down, waving her angry son away with her hand. She collapsed down into the lounge, spilling more bourbon on her beautiful clothes, while Ben deserted her and disappeared inside his bedroom for the rest of the afternoon. 

The next morning Lauren woke up with a horrible hangover. She called in sick, threw up twice and then crawled back into bed with the blinds pulled down. She felt terrible physically and badly depressed about the way she had spoken to Ben and treated him – her life was becoming a train-wreck and she was drinking and smoking far too much. Lauren threw up again and drank a large glass of water and then managed to go back to sleep. She woke around noon when her phone rang: it was Chloe. 

"Are you okay, Chloe asked, concerned, "I called your office and Tina said you were off sick. What's up? Did you talk to Ben?" 

"Yes, I talked to Ben – fat lot of good it did me, I just made things worse Chloe. I drank too much last night and have the most horrible hangover imaginable." 

"Oh god, what did you say to him Lauren?" 

"Well, first I told him to dump his girlfriend or else he couldn't live here anymore, to which he said good, he would move in with what's her name. And then I asked him if he was fucking that little bitch and he said yes he was and that basically it was none of my damned business and then he stormed out and hasn't spoken to me since. All in all it went pretty well, I think." 

"Oh god Lauren," Chloe muttered sadly. 

"You know I have a seven figure income and can arrange corporate mergers and acquisitions – real big deals, any day of the week, but can't seem to sort this out for myself." 

"Really, you think you can just sort this out, as if it were some corporate merger," Chloe said. "You're trying to start a romantic relationship with your own son and you seem to be going about it all wrong. If you want my opinion I think you're making a mistake, but..." 

"Chloe, please," Lauren said, cutting her sister off,"you've told me a million times what you think of all this. I thought we had gotten past that. Please can you just help me out?" 

Chloe paused for a second. 

"Chloe, please I have a horrible hangover." 

"Okay, well I think you're going to have to do what every woman has to do when they want to steal a man away from another woman." 

"Do what?" 

"Lauren, you know what I'm talking about," Chloe said, "you've had plenty of boyfriends – you're going to have to seduce Ben. I mean you've done that in the past, right?" 

Lauren took stock for a moment. She sat up on the edge of her bed, the phone pressed to her ear and saw that Chloe was right – how else could she get Ben, if she didn't seduce him and steal him away from that little bitch. 

"Lauren, did you hear me? Are you there?" 

"Yes, yes I'm here. Yes, you're right Chloe, that's what I have to do – I have to seduce Ben, I have to seduce my son." 

"Oh god this is so crazy Lauren – you know this is so dangerous for him, for you. You both could get caught or you could mess him up big time. I mean Ben is such a beautiful young man and I can understand why you're so attracted to him. I mean I'm attracted to him as well, but I... " 

"Oh really," Lauren said snickering, cutting Chloe off again. 

"Lauren, don't," Chloe said, starting to laugh awkwardly. "Maybe both of us just need to go out and pick up a couple of young guys and get laid – just leave poor Ben alone. I don't think incest is the answer to any of us." 

"Have you seen him getting out of the pool in those red swimmers Chloe? He looks like a young god." 

"Yes Lauren, yes, yes – I have seen him get out of the pool. Please don't remind me as I'm trying to be the sensible one in all of this and for god's sake just think about what I said." 

"Oh yes, I definitely have thought about what you've said Chloe." 

"Right," Chloe said doubtfully, sure that her sister was going to go right ahead with her plans and run face first into a whole lot of trouble. "I'm going to get off the phone and let you sleep it off. Remember Lauren stay away from the drink, it won't help you at all." 

"Yep, okay – bye." 

"Bye Lauren." 

Lauren hung up and switched off her phone and climbed back into bed and lay there feeling sick, her head spinning. She looked up at the ceiling, the bed-sheets pulled up high and remembered. 

At first all their lives were normal and happy – Lauren was married to David and Ben was young and he was treasured like any son would be by his parents. David and Lauren were successful professionals and they made a lot of money. But then their lives were thrown into turmoil when David was caught having an affair with a cute little blonde from work and Lauren threw David out and divorced him. Lauren could still remember coming home early from work with a migraine, walking down the hall and hearing the sounds of moaning coming from behind her bedroom door. 

Then just a few months later Chloe and her husband Mark had broken up, throwing Chloe into chaos. And then Ben had turned 18 after having finished his secondary schooling, and was looking forward to college and had met a girl named Amy. Life just refused to stop throwing its curveballs at them all. The only constant in Lauren's life was her sexual frustration – she hadn't been to bed with a man in a long time and it was taking its toll on her. Chloe hadn't slept in the same bed as Mark for at least 12 months prior to her divorce, but then she went man-crazy as soon as Mark moved out. Lauren however just decided to swear off men altogether after her experience with David and it made her unhappy, even though she felt that she had to make a point. 

Lauren remembered the day clearly. She and Chloe were lying on a couple of banana chairs on the back grass by the pool complex – they were both drinking cocktails. Ben was there in one of the pools by himself and the women were watching him through their sunglasses. Both Lauren and Chloe gasped softly as Ben stepped up out of the pool - he did really look like a young god. Ben was tall and tanned; his body strong, muscular and mature, his hair dark and wet, and his face sweet but masculine. The water streamed down his body as he stood there at the edge of the pool and shook the water out of his hair. Both Lauren and Chloe's eyes dropped to Ben's crotch and they noticed a very large bulge in his swimmers. 

"Oh my," Chloe said softly, "how old is Ben again?" 

"He's 19, nearly 20," Lauren replied. 

"Oh wow and does he have a girlfriend Lauren?" 

"Yes, a real little bitch named Amy." Lauren said spitefully. 

"God, lucky her," Chloe purred before breaking into soft laughter. 

Lauren remembered. That evening Chloe and Lauren got all dressed up and went to a few clubs. Lauren broke her chastity rule, and with Chloe picked up a young guy each and took them home – both guys bore a striking resemblance to Ben. Both women were in such a desperate state – they were at it with their guy as soon as the bedroom door was locked. Lauren felt no need to keep the noise down, even though Ben was at home. The sounds coming out of Lauren's bedroom would have been enough to wake the dead and the same went for Chloe, and the sounds coming out of her bedroom in her house across town. 

And Ben did hear his mother at it from across the hall while he was trying to sleep. Ben could hear Lauren spanking her partner with a sharp hard smack. Then Ben could hear the young man groaning and Ben deduced correctly that his mother was sucking the guys cock. But then soon enough Lauren's laughter had turned into moans and Ben could hear their hips smacking together softly though his mother's bedroom door and Ben's bedroom door. It was a noisy night and Ben didn't get much sleep – he lay there with a hard penis, jealous, and annoyed that he hadn't slept at Amy's. 

More long term, however, something had changed. Lauren and Chloe realised that Ben really was a man and that realisation caused them to look at him differently and to treat him differently. Chloe and Lauren wanted to get to know him all over again and they did. And Ben was such a sweet guy and willing to talk – a natural respectful funny gentleman. Lauren realised much to her amazement and fear that she was falling in love with Ben. It happened one evening over dinner – just the three of them were there: Lauren, Chloe and Ben, and they were having a drink after eating when it happened. Lauren couldn't look at Chloe and she regarded her son red-faced. Lauren had looked at her beautiful son with fresh eyes and an open heart and she had fallen for him. 

Lauren didn't realise it at the time, but her sister Chloe was grappling with the same sort of problem she was. Chloe's problem with Ben had started a week before Lauren became aware of how she felt about Ben, during those after dinner drinks. She had been talking to her nephew about his college experiences when she just started falling for him. It was so bizarre, but it was there nonetheless. Chloe just couldn't take her eyes off Ben's soft lips and his big blue eyes – she barely listened to anything he said. 

Ben's mother took the first truly courageous step and told her sister over the phone how she was feeling – that she thought she was falling in love with her son. Chloe had drawn a deep breath and admitted – with many apologies – that she was having similar feelings for Ben as well. Then they each took an opposing position: Lauren felt she was crazy and a bad mother, but she wanted to see how Ben felt about the idea, she wanted to try it out. She wanted to be with Ben. Chloe on the other hand had just said no, neither of them could do something like that to Ben – incestuous love was just plain wrong. 

Eight harrowing and unsatisfying months passed without either woman doing anything at all to move their relationship with Ben forward. All they had done was medicate themselves with more and more sex, in Chloe's case and in Lauren's case more bourbon and cigarettes. Lauren had listened to Chloe and heeded her harsh advice and stayed away from Ben, but it had done neither of them any good. Lauren was bitter and unhappy and taking it out on Amy and now Ben, and Chloe was bar-hopping and taking home random young guys and getting her brains fucked out. 

Now finally, Chloe had given Lauren her guarded approval to do something after all those months of personal and sexual frustration. Chloe had recommended that Lauren seduce Ben and that sounded like the right way to go. What else could be done: both women were still in love with Ben and something had to be done about the situation. Lauren at least couldn't go on like this anymore – her career and her livelihood, her piece of mind and happiness were all in jeopardy. Chloe was right: Lauren had to seduce Ben and it had to work, no matter what the cost. 

Lauren had a nice hot shower after a few more hours of sleep. She still felt seedy, but she felt more positive about her situation now that she had a plan. After stepping out of the shower and drying herself off she appraised herself in the full length mirror – that little bitch had something to worry about, that was for sure, Lauren thought. Lauren was 5 foot, 10 inches tall with long soft subtle red hair, blue grey eyes and creamy skin with the slightest hint of a tan. She worked out almost every day, swimming laps in the pool or working up a sweat on the treadmill, so her tummy was hard and her ass was tight. Lauren assessed herself correctly and without undue bragging – she was a beautiful woman at 46 with a body that so many men had salivated over and some lucky ones had penetrated.

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  Suck me bitch - sister in law lesbian incest sex with niece
Posted by: incest - 10-24-2018, 02:01 PM - Forum: Lesbian, Gay Incest Sex Stories - Replies (3)

I never considered myself some handsome guy, so when Barbara and I met at an office party, I expected nothing to come of it. She was gorgeous! We dated for awhile and soon we were engaged and 6 months later married. Sex with her was incredible, but knowing how beautiful she was made her very conceited at times. About a year after our marriage, I sensed a change in her, she didn't want sex as much and she seemed to spend more time at work. 

She came in one night after a long day and simply told me she wanted a divorce. She had met a guy that "rocked" her world she said, and that I was too plain and boring for someone with her looks. She packed her shit and moved out and 2 weeks later her lawyer contacted me. She managed to get what she wanted in the settlement, of course I figured she would and it was done. I was alone again and feeling even worse about myself. I guess what they say is true, beautiful women are always looking to profit from their beauty, sure was true in this case. I was not left poor by any means, but not rich either. 

My brother, on the other hand, had married an unattractive woman with a nice tight body and they had a daughter who was absolutely beautiful. Over the years, I envied my brother, he had a good wife and a beautiful daughter and they seemed very happy. The day after my brother's 50th birthday, he dropped dead of a heart attack. I helped Angela(his wife) and Mary(his daughter) as much as I could through the funeral. About a month after the funeral, Angela called me and wanted to come talk to me, and I told her sure, come on over and she did. 

She sat there wringing her hands and crying as she told me about the debt they had accumulated and how she couldn't pay it on her salary and how her and Mary would be evicted and that the bill for the funeral had come in. I thought about it for some time before I took her in my arms and hugged her and told her that I would loan her some money and she felt better as she left for home. I wrote her a check for $10,000 and she kissed me on the lips as tears rolled down her cheeks. 

Angela and I talked regularly on the phone and she and Mary had to move in with me because she couldn't afford a place of their own right now. I had a three bedroom townhouse that I salvaged from my marriage, so each of us had their own room. Mary had grown into quite a beautiful young woman, now 18 and she worked part time to help out her mom. I would catch glimpse of her sometimes on her way to her room from her shower and once caught her rushing through the hall in the nude, although I only saw her from behind. 

What a sweet ass she had, slim hips and long brown hair to her waist. Things went on as usual as we all did our thing and Angela began cooking meals for us all and she and I would sit and watch tv while Mary was at work or out with her friends. One night as we sat watching tv, I asked her about her debt to me as she had made no payments. "Things aren't too good right now Jim, I barely have enough to pay you rent and utilities," she said as her eyes looked at the floor. I decided to drop it for the moment and we went back to watching tv. 

About a month later as Angela and I sat alone at the dining room table, I brought it up again and she started to cry as she told me that she just didn't have it. I got up and took her in my arms and she cried on my shoulder, as she told me she felt bad about it but she just didn't know what to do. I still had my arms around her and she had hers around me when I noticed one of her hands had fallen and was resting on my ass. We stood there and she slowly rubbed my ass and I had to admit, my cock was beginning to stir. Angela was not ugly, but nor was she beautiful, just a plain looking woman. 

I drifted my hand down to her ass and began caressing it through her jeans, and she looked up at me and we kissed. On the lips at first, but then I felt her tongue and opened my mouth and she pushed it in my mouth. Our hands caressed each others asses as we kissed and we stayed that way for a good three minutes. She pulled her mouth from mine and looked into my eyes and said, "Would you be willing to work out a payment plan?"

Neither one of us dated, I was tired of being fucked over and I didn't know why she didn't. "What did you have in mind?" I asked her. 

"I will service your sexual needs and in return, you will deduct an amount from my debt to you," it looked like it killed her to spit that out. 

"How much?" I asked, wondering what it would be like to fuck her. 

"That will be up to you," she replied.

"When will Mary be home?" I asked her and she replied, "Not until midnight, she's working." 

I led her upstairs to my room and locked the door. We locked mouths and this time I explored hers with my tongue as I caressed her back and ass. When we broke, I stood back and looked at her. Her body was still tight, even after a child and all these years. She had shoulder length brown hair and hazel eyes, sweet lips and a small chest. My eyes drifted on down and I saw her slim waist and hips and her long legs. "Let me see what I'm buying," I said and she dropped her head a little in shame and then pulled her shirt out of her jeans and started unbuttoning it. 

When she finished, she pulled it off and I saw her meager tits encased in their white bra. About a 32, I would say and an "a" cup at that. She slipped her shoes off and unbuckled her jeans and pushed them down and stepped out of them. She took her socks off and reached behind her and unclasped her bra and shrugged it off her shoulders and as she dropped it to the floor, she tried to cover her small mounds with her hands. 

"No fair," I said, "I get to see what you're offering." And she pulled her hands away and put her thumbs under the waistband of her panties on both sides and rolled them down her legs and stepped out of them as well. She stood there completely nude in front of me and I drank in her body. She had a great body and I walked over and ran my hands over it inspecting it. I brushed her nipples with my hand and they sprang to life, jutting out like the knobs on a radio. 

I slowly dragged my hand through her pubic hair and she shuddered, "It's ok baby," I told her as I sensed how nervous she was. Not once while she had stripped did she take her eyes off the floor and they were still staring there. I brought ,y hand up to her chin and raised her face and lightly kissed her on the lips. As I broke my kiss I said, "You have nothing to be ashamed of Angela, you have a beautiful body," and I smiled at her. She put her hands around my neck and pulled me to her and kissed me very passionately as her firm little tits pushed against my chest causing my erection to push into her firm belly. 

"Now, it's your turn," she smiled as she pulled my T-shirt out of my pants and up and over my head. She undid my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my pants and they dropped to the floor. I stepped out of them and she pulled my boxers down and I stepped out of them as well. She stared at my now hard cock and ran her hand over it's length, slowly jerking it as she did.

"Jim, you have a nice body as well," she told me and dropped to her knees and said, "Especially this," and she took my cock into her mouth. It had been almost a year since anyone besides me had touched my cock and it twitched as it met the warm confines of her mouth. She began jacking it as she pulled it in and out of her mouth, and then she put her hands on my ass and began fucking me with her mouth, pulling me deeper and deeper into her hot mouth. My balls slapped her chin as she drove me into her mouth and it didn't take long until I felt the cum rising from my balls and I arched my back and yelled as I filled her mouth with salty cum. 

She swallowed hungrily and as she pulled me out, she sucked the last drops from my swollen member. "That was great Angela," I said as I looked down at her with my cock still in my hand and she slid her hand over it's glistening shaft.

"I haven't done that for years," she said as she continued to beat me off. "Thought maybe I'd lost my touch," she smiled up at me. 

"Barbara didn't like giving head," I told her, "You were great!" 

She stood up, still beating my cock and said, "Let's see what else we can do with this," as my cock came back to life. She climbed on the bed and lay on her back and guided my cack to her pussy and ran it up and down the length of her slit and then slowly put it in. Her pussy felt like velvet as my head glided in and soon I was buried to the hilt and my balls against her ass. I began to stroke, slow at first, as I could tell she hadn't had an intruder there in a long time. 

As I picked up the pace, I put my mouth on her tit, which had almost disappeared when she lay down and they flattened out. I sucked her nipple up into my mouth as I rode her and nibbled on it with my teeth, her face lost it's color as she franticly thrust her hips up to meet my thrusts. We were fucking so hard that I thought my balls would wedge in her ass cheeks and suddenly she tensed up and let out a scream, "I"m cummmmmmiiiiinnnggggg!!" 

That was all it took and I pumped my load into that sweet pussy, I collapsed onto her and just lay there with my cock sticking in her pussy. I felt her constricting her vaginal muscles as she milked the last of my cum out of me. She had a smile that went from ear to ear as she pulled her head up and kissed me. As my cock softened, I rolled off of her and lay beside her stroking her nipples with one hand and her hair with the other. 

"Jim, that was fantastic," she said, "I haven't had sex since your brother died." I felt a little guilty then and she sensed it and kissed me and told me that she didn't mean to say it that way. She crawled down and took my limp cock in her mouth and sucked it back to life. I stared at her pussy as she sucked my cock again and saw our juices oozing out of it. I reached over and played with her clit as she sucked me and it enhanced my blow job as she sucked harder. Soon she was groaning with my cock in her mouth as my hand got her off again.

She sucked furiously as she came and I soon filled her sweet mouth again and it ran out of the corner of her mouth and down onto her small tit. We each took a shower and went down to watch TV. She sat next to me and when we heard Mary coming home, she moved over to a chair. Mary walked in with her uniform on from the fast food joint she worked at and said hi and sat next to me on the sofa. We all watched TV and I noticed a familiar smell. Mary had been smoking pot! There was no mistaking that odor. Angela got up and said goodnight and went to bed leaving Mary and I there alone. 

After she was gone, I leaned over and sniffed at Mary's shirt, "What are you doing Uncle Jim?" She looked at me strangely and I smiled, "You've been smoking pot Mary," and I smiled. 

"We all got a buzz after work, it's no big deal, just don't tell mom, ok?" I was still leaning over and I noticed I could see into her shirt and she had no bra on. I stared at her mound of flesh before me, she was larger than her mom. I smiled up at her and said, 

"My silence has a price dear," and smiled. 

"Name your price, Uncle Jim, I can't afford the trouble of getting caught." 

I told her to go make sure her mom was asleep and then come down to the basement. Fucking Angela was great, but my cock had been awakened now and it needed to be satisfied.

I went down to the basement and waited, soon I heard the door open, it was Mary. "Lock the door," I told her and I heard her lock it and she came down.

"Mom is dead to the world," she said, "She must have been worn out." I smiled to myself and told Mary to come over to the pool table. 

"What's the price, Uncle Jim?" she asked innocently. 

"I should think finding out if your mom's asleep and locking the door would make it obvious," I quipped. With that she kissed me and her arms encircled me as she drove her tongue into my mouth. I ran my hands over her back and across her ass as we kissed and then when we broke it off, I reached up and began unbuttoning her shirt. She kicked off her shoes and started pulling her uniform pants down. She stepped out of her pants and I pulled her shirt off and stared at her firm tits. 

Seeing them through the opening in her shirt was only a tease as they stood out before me, her nipples hardening as the cool air hit them. She was larger than her mom, about a 36c I'd say. I cupped them and sucked on her nipples as she rolled her panties off her hips and to the floor. 

"This fucking guy Robert, at work, got me all worked up and then left me that way," she said as I sucked on those fleshy mounds. 

"I'll take care of that for you," I said and picked her up and sat her on the edge of the pool table. I laid her back and put her legs up over my shoulders and looked at the prize before me. She was shaved and not even a hint of stubble either. I licked her opening it's whole length and saw her hands go to her tits. She struggled, but managed to get a nipple to her mouth and began to suck it as I licked her pussy and made my way to her clit. 

I watched her sucking her own nipple and my sucking of her clit intensified. I drove my tongue into her tight slit and fingered her clit as she drove her nipple into her mouth and sucked furiously. Her back arched and came up off the table as she orgasmed and her juices filled my mouth and I hungrily sucked them down. My cock felt hard as steel pressing against my pants and I reached down and freed it. When she relaxed again, I disengaged from her hot cunt and removed my clothes and climbed up on the table with her. I straddled her chest and aimed my rigid cock at her mouth and my mouth back at her hairless jewel. I fucked her mouth as I ate her hot quim and soon she became excited all over again and began thrusting her hips to bury her sweet twat in my face as I speared her mouth with my cock. 

My balls were slapping her nose as I plunged into her hot mouth and my nose was pushing against her puckered little anus as I drove my mouth into her treasure chest. Soon, she began quivering all over as she sought another release and I pumped her sweet mouth full of cum. She gurgled as she fought to swallow it all and I sucked furiously to drink her sweet juices in. We lay there, my cock in her mouth and my face buried in her twat and rested for a few minutes. I pulled my flaccid cock out of her mouth and wiped her juices off my chin as I got up. 

I kissed her and moved her onto her stomach and picked her legs up so that her head was still against the table and her ass was high in the air. I crawled behind her and began kicking her sweet pussy again and alternately her puckered little anus on my journey. She began to breathe heavy as her crotch heated up, I reached down and prepared my cock for the journey. When my cock was hard again, I scooted up and held it against her trembling twat and slid it in. She backed up on my cock and took it all in and gasped as my balls hit her clit. I began pumping in and out of her and with each thrust, her nipples were dragged across the felt of the table and she moaned in ecstasy. 

I worked up to a rhythm and soon I could feel the cum welling up in my balls again and I pushed my finger into her ass hole. I skewered her ass with my finger as I did the same with my cock in her twat. Her body was soon wracked in an intense orgasm as her pussy desperately milked my cock. I pulled my finger out of her ass and jammed my thumb in it's place and she went off again, her anal ring pumping my thumb as her twat sucked on my cock. I couldn't take it anymore and unloaded into her. After it all subsided, I withdrew my thumb and slowly slipped my cock out, and climbed down off the table.

When she got her strength back, she turned and licked the cum up off the table and I saw her red, raw nipples which were still hard. She got down and cleaned my cock off and grabbed her clothes, gave me a peck and headed for the shower. After her shower, she came in and kissed and thanked me and headed off to bed. My cock hadn't had this much action in years and I slept like a child.

I woke up to a quiet house, got up and got dressed and headed downstairs. Angela was in the kitchen and she handed me a cup of coffee and smiled. I sat and drank my coffee and watched Angela working around the kitchen and thought about the previous night's escapades and smiled. 

"Where's Mary today?" I asked. 

"They called her in, she had to work a double," Angela answered. Watching Angela's ass as she washed the dishes made my cock begin to stir and I got up and crept up behind her and when the bulge in my pants touched her ass, she jumped. I reached around and massaged her chest as I ground my bulge into her ass cheeks. She turned her head half way and our lips met and we kissed as I felt her nipples strain against her bra and fabric of her shirt. I traced circles around her nipples as they pressed against my fingers longing for freedom from their constraints. 

Our kiss deepened and I fumbled for the buttons on her shirt and slowly opened it. I grabbed her bra under her tits and pushed it over her sweet little mounds of flesh and her nipples sprang out in front of her and I massaged them as we kissed. Her hands went behind her as she stroked my cock through my jeans and she reached up and unbuckled my pants and pulled down my zipper. Then she extracted my cock from my shorts and stroked it as we became lost in each other. We disentangled ourselves long enough to shed our clothes and then I lifted her up and sat her on the edge of the sink, sunk to my knees and buried my face in her crotch. Her head went back and her hands grabbed hold of my head as I planted kiss after kiss on her warm pussy. 

I planted my hands on her ass and forced her legs apart as I drew her to my warm tongue. She groaned as my tongue speared her pussy lips and found it's way inside, as she rocked on the counter with the thrusts of my tongue. Soon, she screamed as her pussy struggled to grasp my tongue and her juices flowed off my chin. I pulled her down off the sink and turned her around and roughly bent her over the sink and slammed my cock in her. She was a little surprised at my roughness, but it didn't last long as my cock pounded her. Her tits were hanging in the sink and I reached around and grabbed them and kneaded them roughly as I pounded her with my cock. 

I twisted her nipples and grabbed a hand full of her hair and she screamed and I blew my load deep inside her. I slowly released my grip on her and eased out and sat down to recover. She leaned against the sink and stared at me as my jism dripped from her twat. "What was that all about?" she asked as I watched my cum pool on the floor beneath her. "Pleasure and Pain, Angela, it wasn't that bad was it?" 

She stared at me and then said, "No, you just caught me by surprise is all." She kneeled between my legs and sucked my cock clean and the cleaned up the pool on the floor. "It was different," she said matter of factly, as she put her clothes back on. 

"Did you like it?" I asked. 

"Very much, it felt bad and nasty," she said as she shot me a wry smile. I put my clothes back on and went out and cut the grass as she continued her housework. 

I was covered with perspiration as I put the lawnmower away and headed for the shower. As I neared the top of the steps, I heard her stereo in her room and then I heard something else. Her door was slightly ajar and I crept over and peeked through and saw her on her bed nude, with her legs stuck up in the air and her hand ramming a dildo in and out of her pussy. Her eyes were closed as she pumped the dildo furiously with one hand and rubbed her clit with the other. 

"Are you trying to get around your payments?" I asked and she suddenly stopped and jumped up. 

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  My pussy opened wide and sucked in his cock
Posted by: incest - 10-24-2018, 01:53 PM - Forum: Family Group Incest Sex Stories - Replies (2)

It was shortly after my father reached his forty-sixth birthday. He had been a hard-worker all his life. He had provided well for his family. We lived in a large home in a very good neighborhood. We lived in the richest county in the state and in the richest village in that county. He had spent little time at home. All of his time had been spent making money. He owned his own brokerage firm. I didn't understand what he really did for a living. I was nineteen years old. I was the youngest in the family and as naive as a Catholic boy often is.

There was Dad, me, and my three sisters, along with Mom. I still lived at home with Mom and Dad, preparing to go to college in a year after spending time traveling in Europe. My sister, Frida, was a junior in college and twenty-one years old. She lived in a dorm at the college. Next was Geena, who was in her last year of college and twenty-two years old. She lived in an apartment. Last was Hanna, who had graduated and had been working in Dad's firm for two years. She was twenty-four years old and lived at home with me, Mom and Dad.

I was Eric, Mom was Dana, and Dad was Charles.

It happened suddenly. Everything was fine, it seemed. I was not aware of any problems in the family, but I was young and wasn't really tuned in to the family dynamics. I had my own life with its problems and worries. You remember what that was like for to still be fresh out of high school.

Then Dad had his heart attack, and within a few hours he was gone. Our family would never be the same again.

The funeral was three days later. We had a large family and they all came. It was held at a funeral home nearby and then the entire family returned to our large home to do as families always do after these events. We ate from the food provided by all the family members, so that Mom wouldn't have to do anything. We visited with members and spouses and children that we hadn't seen in years, in some cases. Finally, after several hours, almost everyone had cleaned up the food, cleaned the house, and left for their own homes.

I was left with my mother and my three sisters. We had a five bedroom house, so everyone at last went to their own rooms and peace descended upon the house. It was eerie to know Dad wasn't there anymore. It was also strange how little I had seen my mother and sisters mourn. Personally, I had never been close to Dad.

My two sisters in college had taken off for a week from college. It was no problem. They both attended the same exclusive, private school, and my father had been a large contributor to the alumni fund. The college was a tradition in the family. Everyone in the family had attended this school, except, of course, me, and I was heading there next year.

About two in the morning my mom came into my room and awakened me. 

"Eric, do you mind if I sleep with you tonight? I feel so strange. Is it okay, sweetie?"

"Of course, Mom, please, do what you want. It's alright, really."

My mother was a beautiful woman of forty-five. She had kept her hair long, and wavy. It was brown and soft as silk. She was wearing a long nightgown, but it was almost translucent, and I could see what a nice figure she had. I had always thought she was lovely, and tonight she was extremely fine looking. Maybe sorrow brings out beauty I thought.

Mom crawled into my bed and cuddled up to me. I was on my back and I put my arm around her shoulder, and she put a hand on my bare chest. I slept in my boxer shorts only. After a few minutes I could feel Mom shaking and I felt tears wetting my chest and shoulder. 

"Mom, it's alright, it's okay, don't cry, please."

"Oh, Eric, you just don't understand. I know you're young but you should really know the truth. I'm sorry to tell you things you may not want to hear, but you're the man in the family now. You will have to grow up quickly." 

Then she told me the story of her and my father. It wasn't pretty. When my parents had been attending college together they had met at a mixer. She was a junior and he was a senior. The mixer was alcohol free, but almost all the young men at the mixer had bottles in their jacket pockets and my father had made several drinks for himself and my mother. They both were slightly tipsy, but she was a little thing and the liquor really affected her. She lost all her inhibitions. She was still a virgin, but not for long.

They went out to his car and he fucked her in the back seat of his Mercedes. Then he got upset because her virgin blood had stained his carseat. Nine months later my sister Hanna was born. In his family one had to do the "right" thing. They were married. Dad graduated and Mom finished up the next year. Dad's family set them up with a small home and a good job for Dad.

He fucked her only once a year. On his own birthday. It was his present to himself. The rest of the year he was using prostitutes. The only good thing he did was use a condom when screwing the

whores.

So, over the years, by chance, Mom became pregnant and had her four children. Finally, she had her tubes tied. She didn't want anymore children. I had always wondered why our birthdays were within a few weeks of each other. Now I knew. I held her tight. And I felt my cock starting to grow. I had just learned to hate my father, and I was feeling strong feelings of love for my mother. I wanted her.

I didn't have to do anything. I had been wondering what I needed to do to get my Mom to make love to me. It happened very suddenly. I felt her little hand on my boxers. Then she reached into the opening and fished out my hard cock. She started stroking it.

"Is this alright, Eric? I've never done this before. All your father ever did was stick his cock into my pussy and fuck until he came. He never made love to me. Am I doing this right?"

God! Was she doing it right! "Mom, you're a natural, I think. I want you so badly right now. Can I touch you too?"

"Oh, Eric. I want to be loved so much right now. I've waited so long to really be loved. Do anything you want, baby. It's all new to me too."

The first thing I did was have Mom take off the nightgown. Now I could see her beautiful body. She had small tits, but the nipples were sticking out like pencil erasers. They were so pretty. And her pussy was very brown, and curly. She had never shaved it. I don't think she knew that she could. But I noticed something about her pussy. It was already very wet. I stripped off my boxers and grabbed her and put her down on the bed. I started kissing her like a lover, not a son. She kissed back.

My cock was so hard it was starting to ache. She grabbed it again and I started mauling her little titties and nipples, then I sucked on them. She started jacking me off. Then she did something she had maybe dreamed of, but had never done before. She leaned over and kissed my cock. Then she licked it. She shivered with lust. She put her whole mouth around my cock and started sucking hard. She sucked so hard I almost told her to stop, but fuck that. I wanted my Mom to give me my first blow job, and her first blow job.

I was young and this was all new to me, but I knew I loved it. However, I didn't know how to hold it in yet. I started coming in a minute or two. I came so much it dribbled around her mouth. She tried so hard to eat it all. She had been holding herself in check for half of her life. Now she wanted to have it all. She licked and sucked all of my come, looked up into my eyes and grinned as I had never seen her do before. We both had found something magical.

My Mom had discovered what she had been missing for twenty years. She was not about to miss anything ever again, now that the bastard in her life was good and gone. She embraced me and begged me to make love to her again and again. I had lost my hard on. However, I started growing once more. I was young and horny. I was getting ready to do some more sex damage on Mom.

I reached over and started fingering her pussy. She started grinding against my fingers. And moaning with passion. She came quickly, once again, on my hand. I let her lick her own pussy juice and she loved it as she continued moaning. The I decided to do something I had heard the other guys talk about, and I had seen on the internet. I softly spread her legs and started kissing her pussy. I kissed and nibbled on her clit above her slit. I started licking her labia. They were wet from coming so much. I licked it off and sucked her cunt.

I think my Mom came more that night than she had in her whole life.

After I had sucked all her pussy honey out, and watched as more kept dribbling out, I decided that she needed a loving cock rammed up her cunt. I had grown hard again with a nineteen year old's resilience. I was as hard as a stone. Her legs were already spread apart for my feeding session. I just moved into position, spread her legs a little more, and began pushing my seven inches of hard dick into my Mom. She grinned again, then she grimaced the face of lust as I pushed in and began fucking my Mommy.

She had been fucked only about twenty or so times in her life. Her cunt was as tight as an eighteen year old. I could barely force my way in, but I fucking did! I rammed in and started thrusting in and out. I was like a fucking machine. This was my first fuck. I had already had my first blow job. This was the best night of my life. I was going to do the best fucking fuck of my life, and remember it forever. So I rammed harder and Mom started screaming with pleasure and lust.

This time I had plenty of time before I came. I was building up a great come in my balls for my Mom. She kept coming so it was juicy and warm, and it wanted more and more cock in it. I was more than willing to make love to my Mom all night if she wanted me. I kept fucking in and out, in and out, in and out.

After thirty minutes, she started saying, "Eric, please come in me, I can't take anymore, please come, baby, please." 

So I started shooting as much come as I could up her pussy. More and more shot into her cunt. Finally I had no more to give and quickly pulled out. My god! She squirted all her juices and my come back out onto my belly. It was so fucking hot! I had never heard of that before. It was fucking great. I collapsed on top of my Mom and we spread all our come all over our bodies as we embraced in love and lust.

We were so tired that we fell asleep almost immediately. We slept with our arms around each other. All sticky from come and happy as hell.

I awoke about five in the morning. Something wet and soft was wrapped around my soft dick. I glanced down and saw that Mom was enjoying her newfound sexual freedom by making love to her son's cock. She was enjoying rolling my soft cock around in her mouth, tasting all of the come from last night, both hers and mine. But, of course, I couldn't stay soft forever. I started growing, and instead of just licking it she started sucking it and running her tongue up and down my shaft. Then she sucked in both of my balls and ran her tongue over them.

I grabbed her pretty brown hair and began fucking her face. I had dreamed of doing this to some girl. But this was my Mom! I loved it. I fucked her mouth and she rammed almost her whole hand into her cunt. She started fucking her pussy with her hand as I fucked her face. I could tell when she began coming because she almost bit my cock as she moaned. That made me start coming too. She sucked it all down, licked her hand clean, and grinned her new grin at me. Death had brought new life to my family!

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  YOU PUSSY EATING MOTHERFUCKER
Posted by: incest - 10-24-2018, 01:48 PM - Forum: Mom Son Incest Stories - Replies (1)

With their arms entwined around each other's waist, John and Carol Drake stood in the door of their Georgian waving at the last of the departing mourners. Carol's head rested on her son's arm. The tragic death of Allen, John's father and Carol's husband, hit them hard. Less than a week ago he was a seemingly healthy 50-year-old. Then, while sitting at his desk at work, he keeled over. The staff of his business called 911 but by the time the EMT arrived, it was too late. 

As John closed the door, Carol slumped against him and began quietly crying. He wrapped his arms around her plump body and pulled her to him. Her head rested against his broad chest. He could feel her breasts pressing into his abdomen. 

"Mom, I'll be here for you. It'll be hard but we can get through this together." 

"I know, baby, but you have your own life. I'll manage." 

"I took a few weeks off. Come on, lets sit down. You must be exhausted." 

John guided his mother to the large mosh pit sofa in the media room. It fronted the 72" flat screen television where his father indulged his love of sports. A fully stocked wet bar sat at right angles to the wall where the TV hung. The sofa was C shaped with the middle of the C filled by a large hassock and end tables on either end. 

Carol sat down on one side of the C and scooted across, resting her back on the sofa while her legs were extended in front of her on the hassock. Aware that her black knee length dress rode up to mid-thigh, she tugged ineffectually at the hem. 

"John, would you fix me a drink, please! Bushmill's on the rocks" 

"Mom, be careful! This is your second drink and you haven't eaten." 

"I know, Johnny! I'll eat later. Now I just need a drink to relax!" 

At 6' 2, 210 pounds, thirty-year-old John was built like his father. He looked down at his petite 48-year-old mother. The stress of the last few days aged her. The crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the deep furrows at the corners of her mouth were more pronounced. 

He smiled as she tugged at her hem. His mother was a modest person. However, he recalled growing up and hearing her and his father going at it in their bedroom. Belying her demure public persona, judging by her profane cursing and screams, she was a tiger in bed. 

As he opened the 750-milliliter bottle of the potent Irish whiskey, the old saw came to mind. His mother was a lady in the streets and a whore in the sheets. He smiled as he added ice to two rock glasses and filled them with the alcohol. 

In his teen years he had the usual sexual fixation with his mother. He ruefully shook his head as he recalled trying to peek and see her naked. He was away at college into his second relationship before he reconciled his incestuous lusting for his mother. He still found her alluring. 

She gained a few pounds over the years, mostly in her behind and hips. However, they served to make her not heavier but curvier. Her breasts, he guessed she was a C cup, had a decided sag but only added to her curviness. 

Carol watched her son fix their drinks. As always, she marveled that this handsome sexy young man was the issue of her womb. While his father was a rotund bear of a man, John was tall and athletic. He was an empathetic caring person. In some ways he was the antithesis of his hard driving father. 

He was highly successful in his own right. He taught Business Principles in a prestigious university. Though it hurt when he graduated college and decide to live in California, she was proud that he stood up to his father. Allen wanted him to work in the company IT business. 

"Thank you, baby!" She took the glass and took a deep gulp. Carol swallowed hard, daintily covered her mouth with her finger tips and then finished off the drink. She held the glass up and shook it. 

"Wow! You had better take it easy! That stuff will go straight to you head." 

"I hope it does! I need something to ease the pain of your father's death." 

John took a sip of his drink, sat on the end table. He took his mother's glass back to the bar and refilled it. He paused. He looked at his mother. He grabbed the ice bucket and filled it. He took the ice bucket, his mother's refill and the bottle of Bushmill's back to the sofa. He handed her glass to her. Then he sat the ice bucket and bottle on the end table next to him. 

"Part of dealing with lost is moving on! Socialize! Meet people! Perhaps one day finding someone to fill that hole in your life." 

"What your father and I had was special! I'll never replace what we had." 

He slipped off his coat and tie then kicked off his well-shined grey loafers. He sighed heavily as he sat next to her. 

"Is that it," Carol said devilishly, "I thought I was going to get the full strip tease." 

"Careful, Old Lady! I might do the full monty!" 

"Promises, Promises!" Carol kicked off her high heels and let them drop to the floor. She playfully slapped her son's arm when he raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Stop it! Besides, you don't want to see this old wrinkled body!" 

John sipped his drink. It was good to see flashes of his sassy mother. As she lay her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around her, his hand rested on her black nylon thigh high stockings. Nocturnal hamper diving in his teen years revealed she usually wore thigh highs. It became a fetish of his to have his girlfriends wear them during sex. 

Carol took a hefty sip of her drink. She reached over her son and sat the glass on the table. She lay her head back on his chest and began crying uncontrollably. John was caught off guard. He pulled her to him and held her head against his chest. As he stroked her back, his hands slipped to the soft mound where her back ended and her behind began. 

"MOM! It's going to be okay! I know you and dad had something special. But life goes on!" 

With one hand, he stroked her fragrant greying hair. His other hand caressed the upper curve of her behind. He read somewhere that the touch of someone who loved them could ease the pain of grief. As his hand stroked her thigh, her dress rode up exposing the brown flesh between her thigh high stockings and the bottom of her boy shorts. He felt awkward as his hand ended up on the bare skin of her thigh. 

"I know, Johnny, I know! I'm just overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all." 

Carol sniffled. She buried her face in her son's chest. She inhaled his manly scent. He was her refuge. She was aware of the impropriety of her son caressing her bare thigh. However, it was comforting, reminding her of sitting on this same couch with Allen while he caressed her behind. She reached over him, only dimly aware that her breasts drug across his chest, picked up her glass and drained it. 

John took her glass, added a few ice cubes and filled it to the top. He also freshened his drink. "Hey, you're not a crying drunk are you," he teased trying to cheer her up. 

"No! Not usually. It's just...well...I think about what life will be without him and I get sad." 

Carol took the offered glass and took another deep sip. Drinking on an empty stomach was causing her to feel a little light headed. She reached across her son and sat her glass on the end table next to him. In doing so her dress rose higher, revealing all of her black lacey panties. 

John was on his third drink. He rested his hand on his mother's butt and gently massaged it. He used his free hand to freshen both of their drinks. In the process his hand moved from his mother's behind. 

"Don't stop! I used to lay on your father like this while he watched football. He'd rub my ass just like you're doing now." 

John squeezed her full mature behind and playfully slapped it. "Well, I'm not dad. And I shouldn't be patting your ass." 

Carol sipped her drink. She smiled up at her son. "Too bad! I usually ended up giving him a blowjob to make him pay attention to me." 

"MOM! You've had too much to drink. Maybe we should go to bed." 

"Is that a proposition," Carol slurred, "if so, I'm ready!" Her hand grasped his thigh. She began stroking up and down. 

John took another sip of his drink. He squeezed his mother's ass. Somewhere in his mind an alarm went off. He took his hand off her ass. He reached down, intended to grasp her waist and push her off him. The alcohol dulled his senses. He pushed his mother's breasts. 

"Oops! Sorry about that! And no, that wasn't a proposition. What's come over you?" 

Carol's hand bumped the head of her son's cock as she ran her open palm up and down his thigh. "I'm old, a widow and slightly drunk. And I'm going to miss your father's cock!" 

"In order," John replied drunkenly, "you're not old! You're like fine wine, getting better with age. As far as being a widow and missing dad's cock, with an ass like this, you won't be alone long." He brought his hand down firmly, smacking her ass. 

"OUCH! You're heavy handed like your father." 

"Sorry! But I haven't had anything to eat either. This alcohol is going straight to my head." 

She turned on her side while laying on her son's lap. She saw the bulge where his dress pants pulled tight across his thighs. In a moment of Déjà vu, she remembered the feel and taste of her husband's cock. "Unzip me!" 

John grasped the zipper on the back of his mother's dress and pull it down. It stopped just above the curve of her ass. He could see the straps of her lacey bra. The matching lacey panties pulled tight across her behind. Despite himself, his inhibitions lowered by the drinks, he felt himself getting a hard on. 

"Now who's doing a strip tease." 

"Boy, if you saw anymore of this old body, you'd get sick to your stomach!" 

John picked up the bottle and slopped more Bushmill's in the glasses. In the process some spilled on his mother's back just above her panties." 

"OOPS! Hold on! I can't let good booze go to waste." John leaned down and licked the up the alcohol. His tongue ran along her spine and across the elastic waistband of her panties. The aroma of her fragrance wafted up to his nose. Impulsively, he kissed her pantied ass. 

A tremor shook Carol's body. It started between her legs and travelled through her body. She rolled on her back. The top of her dress fell down, exposing her bra. 

Carol could feel her son's hard cock pressing against the back of her head. An alarm went off in her head. They were both tired, stressed and halfway through a bottle of Irish whiskey. She knew they should stop. Later she would not understand what came over her. She knew it as not just the alcohol. 

"Too bad you didn't spill it on the front," she giggled. 

John's head rocked back and forth as he tried to focus. "You ain't said nothing but something to do," he said drunkenly. He picked up the bottle. He intended add a dollop to her belly. He over did it. Carol yelped as the whiskey soaked her panties. 

She sat up, her behind against her son's thigh. "Damn, Johnny! You destroyed my panties." 

Carol lifted her butt, hiked her dress up around her waist. She hooked her thumbs in her panties and pulled them off. Playfully, she turned and pull them over his head. 

John tried to ward her off, holding his hands in front of his face. His coordination was off. His mother thrust her panties over his head with the crotch over his mouth. The acrid odor of the alcohol competed with the aromatic aroma of his mother's panties. He opened his mouth and sucked on the fragrant crotch of his mother's wet panties. 

Carol turned and sat cross legged on the sofa watching her son chew on her panties. She thought it was the most erotic thing she saw in her life. She giggled at the incongruity of his eyes peering through the leg holes. She was uncaring that her neatly trimmed pussy with its greying thatch was on display. She felt a gooey wetness as she watched him munch on her panties. 

"Can't let this good whiskey go to waste!" He leered at his mother through the leg holes as he sucked on the gusset of her panties. 

Carol glanced down and saw her son's massive hard on. She licked lips. How many times had she and Allen played right here? She reached out and grasped his tool, flexing her fingers on its length. "How do they taste," she slurred? Her eyes were at half mast, her head moved loosely. 

John pulled her panties off his head. There was a roaring in his ears as blood rushed through his veins. He ran his tongue over his lips, relishing the musky after taste. He held them out to his mother. "Taste them yourself." 

Giggling, Carol reached for her panties. She over balanced, wind milled her arms and fell back on the hassock with her legs akimbo toward her son, her knees slightly bent. She held her panties to her nose. 

"Not bad! The panties taste different than when I tasted myself on your father's cock." She shivered, recalling those intimate moments. She was uncaring of her unladylike posture. 

"TMI, mom," John slurred. 

He mentally crossed a line as he stared at his mother's glistening pussy. Later he was not sure what drove him. Perhaps, it was the end result of his teenage lust for her, a chance to realize a fantasy. The stress of the last few days of funeral preparation added to it. They were both overly tired. He scooted down on the couch and crawled between her legs. 

Carol raise the upper part of her body on her elbows. She looked down at her son crawling between her legs. As active as their sex life was, her husband rarely went down on her. He was old school. 

"What cha doing, baby?" A clear thought popped through the alcoholic fog. I should stop him. We're going too far. 

Before she could transfer the thought to action. John tentatively licked at her engorged cunt lips. "Taste better this way," he mumbled. 

His tongue sent an electric shock through Carol's body. Her hips thrust up. One hand grasped the back of her son's head and held it tight against her throbbing love hole. 

"Fuck! No baby! No! We mustn't!" 

She was in that nether world between inhibition lowering drunkenness and passed out drunk. Even as her hand pressed his head tighter to her spasming cunt, she was aware it was wrong to let her son lick her pussy. However, grief and alcohol pushed the societal prohibitions to the side. This incestuous shared intimacy felt good. 

John ran his tongue up and down the length of her cleft, French kissing his mom's pussy. Her taste was incredible, like thick musky syrup. He drove his tongue deeper in her, lapping at the increasing flow of her pungent juices. He raised up, his mouth and face glistening with her wetness. He looked up at his mother. She looked incredibly wanton with her bra still on and her dress bunched around her waist. 

"'Taste better this way," He said with a lop-sided grin. 

"If I taste so good, why did you stop?" 

She looked down at her son's head between her thighs. Drowned out by the copious amounts of alcohol they drank, the warning alarms in her head were much fainter. 

He grinned up at his mother. He blinked his eyes several times, trying to focus. Her head seemed like it was far away. He slipped his arms under her thighs, lifted her legs to his shoulders. He Frenched kissed her dripping hole, wiggling his tongue inside her pussy. When she bucked against his head, he slapped her thigh. 

"Hold still!" 

"How the fuck you expect me to hold still when your tongue is in my pussy sending thrills through my body?" 

Carol writhed as her son tongue fucked her. When his tongue flicked at her engorged, sensitive clit, she screamed. 

"AWWWW FFFFUUUCKKKK! YOU PUSSY EATINNG MOTHERFUCKER!" 

Her body quaked as she came. Her legs clamped around his head. She ignored his muffled protestations. "OHHHH SHIT! SHIIIITTT!" 

John managed to pull his head from the vice like grip of his mother's thighs. He rocked back on the couch. Blearily he watched as his mother's belly heave as she gasped for air and came down. He could see a thin whitish liquid oozing from the bottom of her pussy. He reached over, picked up his glass and took a sip of his drink. 

"That's how you sounded when you and dad were doing it in the bedroom," he chuckled. 

Carol lay on her back staring at the ceiling. What was happening? She never had any sexual feelings for her son. Yes, she thought he was handsome and sexy but she never fantasized about anything sexual with him. Yet, a pleasurable tingling suffused her body. 

She managed to turn at right angles to her son's feet on the hassock. Her dress was a wrinkled mess around her waist, the hem soaked with her juices. Her nipples were painfully hard. 

"Your father was old school," she said, pointing at her drink. John slopped some whiskey from the nearly empty bottle and handed it to her. "He rarely ate me out. And for sure not like you just did." She took a long gulp from her glass. 

She handed the glass to John. "Now let me show you what he liked." She fumbled with his belt. 

Bleary eyed, John stared down at his mother struggling with his belt. She grinned up at him triumphantly after she solved its intricacies. She unzipped his pants, fumbled inside the opening, found his cock and pulled it out. 

"You're having a lot of trouble down there, mom! You sure you know what you're doing?" 

Hearing her son call her mom while she held his cock in her hand jarred Carol. For a moment she hesitated. What am I doing? She looked at the pulsing man meat in her hand. He was as least as large as his father. Maybe a little fatter. But definitely harder. Like a cat lapping cream, her tongue licked the clear liquid oozing from his slit. 

"Your father said I was a great cocksucker. We would sit here on the couch while he watched television and I would suck his cock." The last word caught in her throat as reality intruded. Allen is dead! She pushed the thought away and took her son's cock in her mouth. 

John hands clawed at the sofa as his mother's tongue caress his tool. He groaned as her head pushed down taking him fully in her mouth. FUCK! She's good! In his 30 years, he had many blowjobs. They ranged from fresh faced coeds trying to improve a grade to trysts with fellow teachers. There was even the husband of the Chemistry professor who loved to suck him clean after he fucked his wife. He was good! However, his mother was a pro. He could tell by the way her tongue wrapped around his girth as she slowly bobbed. His butt clenched. He knew he could not last long. 

"Jesus mom! Where did you learn to suck cock like that?" 

Carol pulled back still applying even pressure to her son's dick as she did. She smiled as she heard the slight pop as the head slipped through her pursed lips. She looked up at her son's face twisted in a grotesque mask of lust. 

"When your father and I first got married, we experimented with swapping. For a couple of years, I sucked and fucked many cocks. And licked a few pussies." She winked at the startled look on her son's face. "Practice makes perfect!" 

John's hips pumped involuntarily as Carol tongued the slit of his tool. His hand was caressing his mother's bare ass. He slid his index finger into her drenched love hole. He slowly probed, relishing the slickness and the flexing he felt. 

"You and dad were swingers," he gasped. It was a startling revelation. He tried to picture his demure mother riding a cock. Somehow it played into his teenage fantasies. He would sometimes listen to the sounds of his parents having sex and wonder what they looked like. What she looked like. 

She groaned as she felt her son finger fucking her. She redoubled her sucking. His cock felt incredible in her mouth. Her nose twitched as the scent of their arousal assaulted her nostrils. Reluctantly, she again took his cock from her mouth. She looked at it pulsing, the slit oozing his precum.

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  My cock is going to be in your mouth mom
Posted by: incest - 10-24-2018, 01:15 AM - Forum: Mom Son Incest Stories - Replies (1)

I came back to life thanks to my son. It was quite inadvertent and I didn't even know I was dead. I was a thirty seven year old widow who hadn't had sex in four years; I had even stopped masturbating. I was a mess.

When I was younger, I was always involved with the boys. My 'attractors', as in the song, stood 'way up firm and high'. My makeup was always perfect and my tight skirts left little to the imagination. After marrying too young, my husband's heart betrayed us both when he was forty. I no longer cared what I looked like. I gained twenty pounds, threw away my lipstick, and wore the same two pairs of jeans and four flannel shirts for years.

I was resuscitated by a phone call. It wasn't to me or from me. I was in the den and was about to call my sister Beth. My son Danny was on the phone so much that I usually checked to see if it was free by pressing the speakerphone button; I got an earful. He was talking to Karen, a girl he was going to the prom with. The first words I heard were "…now put that wet finger on your slippery little button."

What was I listening to? It couldn't be my baby Danny whom I was sure was a virgin, the boy that I was still waiting to have the 'sex talk' with? As he continued talking I realized I was a little too late. He said, "Make believe it's my tongue making circles all around it…slowly…one way and then the other…is your pussy getting wet the way it does for me little girl?"

The sound of her answer sent an electric spark through my belly. "Oh yes Dan…my pussy's all wet for you…why aren't you here with your big thing…so I can kiss you and you can touch me all over…?" My hand went almost involuntarily between my legs.

"Tomorrow little girl…Scott's having a party…and you're going to be there…upstairs…with your legs spread…and then you'll have it…deep in your pussy…" As my son described what he was going to do to his girlfriend, I put my hand in my panties and slid a finger over my moist clit. As the disturbing image of my son entering the pussy of a woman who could only be me focused, I came with a shudder. I pressed the speakerphone off and went blank until the cooling stickiness in my panties reminded me of what had just happened. I felt confused but with a sexual energy I hadn't felt in years. It felt so good to be turned on again even if it was my son that had turned me on – then I looked in the mirror.

I was appalled. I determined to do something about what I saw. It was four months of hell, four days a week in the gym after work. I lost the extra pounds and found a not bad looking woman looking back at me who was ready to resume an intimate relationship. Throughout my 'ordeal', Danny was an inspiration. One discouraging day he said, "Mom, you're doing great. I would love to have a girl who looks that hot; you look good enough to eat." I'm sure he didn't mean it in a sexual way but still; he was too much of an inspiration. 

I was inspired by the phone call that still played in my head. I was inspired by the handsome strong body Dan had grown in to. I was inspired by thoughts of him doing to me what he said he would do to Karen. I had fought the thoughts for weeks and months: rationalizing why I had them, telling myself about their fantasticality and immorality. I dismissed them time and again only to have them return…unbidden…urgent…searing my insides. I sent them away with anger, frustration, and finally with masturbating fingers. They returned to mock me when I looked at his face or when he hugged me hello.

I tried to talk to Beth but the words wouldn't come out. How does a woman say to her sister, "I want to sleep with my son?" I started becoming someone I didn't like; I listened in on his conversations. I did something that still embarrasses me when I think about it; I went into Danny's bedroom in the middle of the night. I planned to say I heard a noise or something like that if he awoke. He was lying almost on his side. It was a hot night and he was nude. I saw what I went to see. His long shaft lay flaccid on his thigh. I stood for almost a half hour. I watched in silent fascination as my son's cock almost fully hardened at one point. I imagined it in my mouth, on my tongue. I felt myself on the edge of doing the unthinkable. I went back to my room and made myself come twice.

Even that night, in my cobwebbed denials, I never thought that I could ever let him put that cock inside me nor did I think he would want to. After all, I was his mother.

Things began going crazy when Danny came home after prom night. I asked him how it went and said "Okay". I asked him why it wasn't 'great' or 'fabulous' and he laughed and said. "Those are details you really don't want to know mom." I was serious when I told him he could tell me anything and that I wanted to know anything that affected him. I knew he'd had a few drinks but I was a still wide eyed when he told me. "Well it's Karen, I sort of broke up with her tonight…it's a sex thing mom, are you sure you want to hear this?"

I put my hand over his and said, "Sure I do, but I'm surprised you broke up because she's such a pretty girl and she has a wonderful body."

"It's okay…it's not as nice as yours mom and she really doesn't want to use it. We've had…you know…intercourse a few times…but she never wants to do anything else…it makes no sense but she says the other stuff is only if we get 'serious' or engaged or something. Hey, I'm not ready for anything like that…I mean I'm not getting married just to get…it doesn't matter…it's not like we were in love or anything."

"Well I'm glad you're not rushing into anything…you're young and handsome and there are going to be a lot of women…I'm sure." His remark about my body sensitized me. "I shouldn't ask you this but I'm curious, have you already done all those 'other things' with other girls?"

" Boy mom you really are curious." He took a deeper breath and said, "I've had oral sex a lot and it's great but I've never had uh…anal…not that I would mind trying it but…" Dan started to laugh and I asked him why and he said, "Well, Karen said she would NEVER have anal with me because I'm…I guess I'm pretty big…"

I told him, "A woman adjusts…most woman can…I'm sure you're not that big…" I looked down and saw the outline of the bulge in his pants and put my hand on it…I had put my hand on my son's cock! I fogged over; I couldn't hear what he said. I had crossed the line without even knowing I was approaching it. I looked up to see my son with his eyes closed enjoying the rubbing I was giving him. He got harder. Was he enjoying it because it was me or would any eighteen year old get hard if any decent looking woman rubbed his cock, even if it was his mother? 

The questions disappeared when his cock appeared. He had unzipped his pants and taken it out. It was swollen red with blood…it was rock hard…its size fascinated me. He said "Suck it mom…please suck it."

I hadn't had a cock in my mouth for so long…I had forgotten how much I liked it. I closed my mouth over about a third of my son's cock and wrapped my fingers over the still exposed shaft and slid my hand back and forth as I sucked. The swollen helmet felt velvety smooth in my mouth as my tongue massaged it. I took more of the big cock until it approached the back of my throat. 

I felt his hands on my head and in his excitement and inexperience he was directing me. I gently moved his hands to my aching breasts. He massaged them over my blouse, as I tasted his pre-cum. The flavor of sex made me hungry for more. The thought of my son spewing incestuous cum into his mother's mouth excited and alarmed me. Before he exploded I actually thought of stopping…and…I don't even know what I was going to do or say but the sound of desire in his voice was mesmerizing and it made me wet. He said, "Oh mom…yes…suck my cock…suck it, suck it…it feels so good…don't stop…please…my beautiful mother…" His first release caught me by surprise. It was so hard I pulled back and the next two jets caught me on the cheek and chin. I returned his cock to my mouth and swallowed the last of the cum that presaged my panic.

"What have I done?" I thought "Is he going to hate me for the rest of his life. How could I have sucked my own son's cock?"

"OH mom", he said, "That was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me" He kissed away my trembling and he kissed away my silent tears but I was overwhelmed. I ran to my room and locked the door. I was mortified. Danny begged me to open the door and talk to him but I couldn't. 

After a long time I said, "I'm okay baby, I'll talk to you tomorrow." I wasn't okay, neither through that sleepless night nor for weeks afterwards. I apologized to Dan and told him I'd been drinking and depressed even though the truth was that I just wanted to sleep with him; no…I wanted him to fuck me…but I was determined that he shouldn't.

I begged him to forgive me and forget that it happened. What a stupid thing to say. 'Forget that your mother took your cock in her mouth and sucked you until you came.'

Needless to say, neither of us could forget what happened. The more we didn't talk about it, the larger it loomed whenever we were together. Finally one night, in the middle of a sentence, Danny began kissing me passionately. I wanted nothing more than for him to take me, have me, be in me; but I reluctantly pushed him off and said, "Sweetheart…love…we can't…it's incest. Oh my Danny…I put these crazy in your head with my selfish…"

He stopped me. "Mom do you think I never thought about you? Don't you know I was always turned on by you?" 

I was surprised. "But I was horrible to look at and…"

"Mom, you were never horrible. You were always beautiful to me. Let me show you something." He went to his room and returned a moment later with some photographs in his hand. They were old ones that my husband had taken when we were first married. I looked at myself in 'pin-up' poses wearing a bikini.

"Where did you get those…that was so long ago I don't even remember taking them?"

"I found them in a stack of pictures five years ago mom. Mom, you've been turning me on for a long time. I look at these pictures all the time…I still…believe me you didn't start me thinking about having sex with you…mom I…" 

He came closer to kiss me, to touch me, to love me. I felt like saying "Yes Danny, put your cock in my mouth again, put your cock wherever you want to fuck me…" Instead, I stopped him by saying "Oh God, Danny please don't…please don't make it that much harder. We can't…we just can't…I can't do it to you."

"Mom" he said, "You're not doing anything to me…It's what I want…isn't it what you want mom? I hesitated for a second and he reached for me saying…'Let me love you mom…just let me…"

"Please baby no…I can't even talk about it any more…we're not going to become…honey please understand…please don't break my heart. Right now I want you so much I don't know if I could stop you." I started to cry. "Oh Danny it hurts me…please don't hate me."

He relented, "Okay mom, I won't force you…how could I stop loving you mom…but can I at least hold you?" I went to his arms and my breasts pushed into his chest. I felt his cock against me. It was torture until he let me go.

That night, I touched myself until I was exhausted; I couldn't satisfy myself. I was only feeding my hunger. I became lovesick. It sounds romantic; it wasn't. There was nothing poetic about it. I actually became physically ill because of the stress and the unrelenting desire to have my son. I ended up in bed for ten days with a weakened immune system. The doctor said something about 'fatigue syndrome' but I knew better.

Danny was so good to me during that time I get teary thinking about it. He took care of me, he looked after me, and he was always there. We spent so many hours talking about everything. I never felt as loved in my life as I did when he sat on my bed and cradled me in his arms with soft kisses on my forehead. With his help I climbed out of the pit of despair I had dug for myself.

I finally talked to Beth. After about twenty 'you what?' she settled down enough to help me struggle toward an acceptance of my situation. It was enough just to hear a bit of assurance that I wasn't terrible and that the rest of my life might not have to be a horror. She told me I could have all the feelings but waiting until Danny was older would be the responsible and right thing to do. I settled in my mind that my son would not have me sexually before he was twenty-one. Of course I realized that there is no magic number that makes a person ready for mature decisions but it was reasonable for lots of reasons.

I spoke to Danny that night. He tried every way he knew to convince me otherwise, but I stood fast. The things he said were things I had heard when I was a young girl and they would have been funny if I didn't want it as much as he did. "Please mom, let me be in your pussy just once; I promise I won't come." The thought of my son's full manhood spreading my pussy and pushing up into my belly made me wet but after three hours of sweat and tears he came around, and so did I. 

We agreed to a compromise. We would wait until he was twenty-one and see if we felt the same way. We would see other people but he would live at home until he met someone else. My concession was that we could touch each other but he had to swear not to ever suggest or try to get me past that point – nor let me take him past it. Our 'deal' ended with a sweet long kiss. 

That first night, we touched each other into oblivion. My pussy creamed and I lost count of the number of times he made me come. My son's fingers and hands on me and in me had me climbing the walls. His touched me lightly along my neck down to my breasts and said, "You know what the best thing about your skin is? It goes all over your body" Everything that could be done to a clit, he did to mine. He said, "I could touch you there all night mom" and he did. The next morning, for my sanity, I added the 'vitamin' rule to our bargain: Once A Day.

After six months, things were working out wonderfully and terribly. Neither of us had gone out with other people at all, each night was sublime in each other's arms, and our craving for more was excruciating. We didn't cross the line but we came so close that a feather could have knocked either one of us over it. I wouldn't let him stay the night in my bed because after a few nights of feeling that big hard cock against my behind, I couldn't get any sleep. That didn't prevent me from going to his bed when my desire to be near him overwhelmed me.

Many of my dreams haunted me. The nightmare was that they were so sweet. I was finally skewered on my son's fat cock and he was fucking me until I screamed. I woke up dripping from every pore and every hole. They were so real I awoke angry with Danny for going back on our deal and frustrated that he really hadn't. My poor baby couldn't understand why his mother was so grumpy on so many mornings. I couldn't tell him how much I wanted him because it only would have made it harder for him and I knew from experience that he was hard enough all the time.

Somehow we made it until he was twenty. On a weekend I had to travel for business, I asked him to come with me. Maybe being in a strange room and a strange bed did it or maybe we were both just at a point of no return. Before we'd even touched, I was undressing in front of the mirror and I saw him sitting on the bed. He said, "Mom, I'm going to have you tonight." It wasn't angry or asking. It was a matter of fact.

I turned and took off my bra and said, "Yes honey, you are." I walked over to him and offered my nipple to his lips. We had waited so long; we both instinctively knew that our first time should not be wasted in a heated rush. He sucked each nipple long and hard. Each pull sent sensations to my pussy. I stroked the back of his head as he pulled my panties down and said, "That's good baby…you make momma feel it down to here." I opened my legs as I stood before him and put his hand over my pussy. He rubbed me gently.

"You have a soft cunt," he told me. "…A sweet soft cunt that I'm going to be inside…in here mom, in here." As he spoke his finger entered and explored. He took his finger out and raised it to my lips. I tasted my juice and it excited me. He said, "…I'm going to be here mom, in your mouth …my cock is going to be in your mouth mom…" I sucked his wet finger and rolled my tongue around it."

I looked down at the handsome face and just said 'Yes son…yes…yes…" I should have expected what came next but I didn't. He reached between my spread legs and found the tender pucker. 

Dan sent his slippery finger into the small channel and said, "I'm going to fuck you here mom…in your ass…my cock is going to be here mom, here." He drove his finger as far as it would go.

"OH God…Danny…yes…in me …in all of me." His pants were still on, but the bulge I saw sent me a picture of his big cock attempting to enter my ass. It sent a shiver through me but I knew I wanted him to do it. 

I sat next to him and took his shirt off. He stood and took off his pants. His long, wide, cock was erect and poised by my mouth; the smell of sex was on it. I licked the length of it and it sprang as I slathered my son's balls with saliva. I took the big knob into my mouth and sucked my way up the shaft. My tongue traced the contours of my son's cock. 

I wasn't sucking long before Danny pulled out of my mouth. I knew what we both wanted. I leaned back and positioned myself to take the insertion I had waited so long for. I told him, "I'm ready baby…momma's ready for you…"

Danny was breathing as hard as I'd ever seen. He approached me on his knees and his cock looked like a spear coming out from between his legs. He spread me by the ankles and said, "I'm ready too momma…I've been ready to fuck you for as long as I can remember…ready to put this cock inside you where it belongs…"As he spoke I felt the head of his cock spreading my pussy. My wetness had made me accessible to the first penetration of his steel shaft.

As my son pushed deeper into my grasping channel, I told him, "Yes baby…that's where it belongs…in my pussy…in your mother's pussy…" I wanted him to fuck me deep and he did. Each stoke took him toward my belly and I couldn't stop moving as he filled me with his long thick meat. "OH God love…so good…I don't know how I waited this long…oh honey thank you…thank you for waiting for me…for loving me…now we never have to wait anymore…yes baby…love me…love me with your big cock…always…always…" As I spoke, I surprisingly started to spasm. I wanted to wait but I couldn't. I came with a yell and as my son stroked me harder and faster, it felt like only seconds passed after my first orgasm when I began to climb again. I didn't feel Danny come and he was still hard as a rock inside me. 

He pulled out of my pussy and took his cock in his hand. It glistened with my juices and he positioned it on my asshole. Before I could gird myself, he had pushed passed my tight anal ring and I felt the enormous pressure of his young cock working its way into a place it seemed it could not fit. As he moved deeper in my ass, his cock felt more massive than it ever looked. I felt as stretched as I could get. I could feel the tears at the corners of my eyes but I was determined not to stop him. He said, "Is it too much for you mom…should I stop? Can you take it?"

Could I take it? I could take it forever. I loved having a cock in me again and most of all I loved that it was my son's cock that was now deep in my ass. My loud moans and the pressure eased somewhat as I relaxed. As my fear subsided, I began enjoying the pulsing heat and friction my son's cock had created along the walls my tight channel. I told him, "No baby don't stop…stay inside me…it's where I want you…yes love…push into me…tell me you need me baby…tell me…"

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