In a story I once read, an author addressing himself to lovers of incest stories, told of the ease with which he was able to seduce his mother. He ended his letter saying that there many mothers who would gladly welcome their sons with wide-open arms and legs into their beds, if their hot and horny sons only make a pass at them. He went on to point out that many a single mother, without a lover in her life, more then not were inching for cock and would ultimately, in spite of their moral convictions, be amenable to taking on her own son as a lover if approached properly.
My own eighteen-year-old must have taken the writer at his word because this mother found herself the recipient of her young man's sexual desire.
That led to me being naked and lying flat on my back, with my son lying on top of me between my parted thighs. His baby-making cock buried to the hilt in my juicy twat, pumping away from one cum-gushing ejaculation after another. Now I find that I am on my way to late motherhood. So all I can say is Thank You, from the bottom of my heart.
I am a widow now living happily in sin, as man and wife with my eighteen-year-old ever-horny and ever-hard son, and will be present him with a son or daughter of his own shortly, before his nineteen birthday, some seven months down the road.
But not all my happiness belongs to the author of the story that helped to get my son thinking that he could get into my panties. Part belongs to my late, overbearing hubby for this new lifestyle of canal bliss with my new found son/lover.
Incest never entered my mind until about a year ago when my late-mate started visiting pornographic sites on line and printing stories with the intent of getting me to read them with him to lend some excitement to our waning sex life.
Raised in a church going atmosphere, I was reluctant to get involved, but did so at my husband's insistence. It didn't take long, as we went through story after story to find out that the ones about incest were the ones for us. Soon after reading them I would be spread wide on the bed with Al's husky love-tool buried deep inside me and sending me through one orgasm after another. It was like we were horny teenagers again.
I quickly became addict to the family love stories and looked forward to reading them each day with my Al. Him sitting behind me naked rubbing my tits and pussy as I read aloud stories of fathers and daughters, aunt and uncles with the nieces and nephew and of course mothers and sons. The last one became a favorite for us both very quickly.
In spite of my acceptance and excitement of family love for others, the thought that I might join those ranks myself never entered my mind, even with a good looking horny teenage son in the house, since my needs were being well taking care of by my husband. That is until my mate's untimely death some months ago, and the sexual hunger that intensified and ultimately had me climbing the walls in need for a bed partner.
My relationship with my son was not very good while his father was alive the two of them were always doing things together. When his dad died unexpectedly, my son hardly left his room for days.
Then one day after relieving some tension at my computer while reading, I head to take a shower, I had forgotten to close out of the site. When I finished my shower I found my son was at the computer read want I had been, one hand was on the mouse and the other was in his lap. From that day forward I noted a change in my son's behavior towards me. I notice he was visiting pornographic sites that had incest stories more and more.
I like to think that it was my attempt to comfort him that brought us together, rather than a planned seduction on his part and I plan to continue thinking that way. In any event, he became very attentive to me. I was staved for attention and thankful of the change in his feelings toward me. I welcomed his hugs and kisses and never said a word if his hands strayed to my butt or landed momentarily on my breasts. I realized he was feeling his way, seeing how far I let him go. Each time he went a little farther I wondered should I stop him.
Sex with my son got its start in, all places, at the kitchen sink. I was doing the breakfast dishes when he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I was startled momentarily, but pleased with his show of affection, until he cupped my tits in both hands and began fondling and squeezing them. I just stood there confused, my brain told me to stop him but my cunt was growing wetter by the second.
I remember murmuring to myself, "Watch it buster, I'm your mother," like he didn't know that already.
Then one of his hands moved down toward my pussy and he began to kiss me on the neck. I knew where this was heading if I didn't stop this. My pussy was on fire but my brain was screamed at me, "You're not one of those mothers that could fuck her own son. YOU'RE NOT KIND OF WOMAN. STOP THIS NOW."
When he pulled my butt tightly against his groin and I felt his boner pressing against my ass, I broke free and lost it. Began yelling at him, telling him that what he had in mind was wrong on some many levels. My body was reserved for my husband only, and in no way was I going to give it to my son. Famous last words.
Spurned and rebuked, he backed away he yelled back that he knew what I was reading on the web, that I was lying about not wanting it. Why hadn't I stopped him from touching me if I didn't want him to do more then just touch? Then he stormed to his room.
For the next few days hardly a word passed between us, creating a chilled atmosphere. I was angry with him for entertaining such thoughts, and more angry with myself for allow him to have them, for allow his caresses and how wet I become with need at his touch. I cried a lot of tears in those few days as I sorted through my feelings.
Then on the third day something took place between us that I cannot explain why I let it happen, and it changed our mother/son relationship completely. Alone in the house, I walked outside to the back yard and laid down on the reclining chair after a bath, nude except for a thin short robe and soon the warm sun caused me to fall asleep. I don't know how long I slept, but was startled wake and find my son sitting in a chair opposite the recliner I was lying on, staring at my bare breasts that had escaped the confines of my robe and at one thigh which lay bare up to a few short inches from my pussy.
Feeling sorry for the words and my actions, I was suddenly overwhelmed with desire to hold him in my arms and make up for the hurt I had given him. There was a look of desire and sadness on his face, like he was looking at something he wanted so badly but could never have. I melted on the spot and giving a little sigh, put my arms out for him. He was up in a flash and covered the space between us in a single bound, landing as softly as possible on top of me, my legs spread for him. Holding him tightly to me, his hand found their way to my tits, this time I didn't stop his caress.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry," I mumbled, begging for forgiveness. "It's my fault. I can't change how you feel now about me but if this is what you want then take it; use my body for your pleasure."
"Yes mom. I want you but not for my pleasure, for our pleasure. Teach me what to do to make you moan and call me name out...like...like you did with dad."
My mouth sought out his in fiery lust-filled, open mouth, tongue mingling kisses. In fact I moaned my encouragement into his mouth. Given the go-ahead, my robe was fling to the floor and my son got his first glimpse of his mother's nude body. At that point, I was resigned to having sex with my son. Better yet, I was anxious to have him fuck me.
It was when he stood before me and stripped naked as the day he was born, with an erection that defied description that I suddenly remembered where we were, outside, in board daylight naked, seconds away from committing incest, only hidden from the rest of the world by an 8 foot privacy fence.
Although my pussy was hot and my body craved the cock staring me in the face, I got cold feet. But my son wasn't about to be denied what I had just offered him moments before. In spite of my wavering vocal objections, his excited hand was soon raising havoc between my thighs.
When he worked his fingers between the swollen, clinging lips of my wet pussy, I remember asking him to stop, just so we could go inside.
Because I said, "If you don't stop now,” I breathed against his lips, as he kissed me passionately, "I will not be able to stop until you're inside me. You've already said I am loud when I'm being fuck, who know who will hear me out here."
He didn't stop.
He got me so hot, I recall opening my legs wider and lifting my ass to draw his finger deeper into my cunt, and reaching out for his husky pussy pleaser.
Having come this far, and once again resigned to the inevitable, I honestly didn't want him to stop. I wanted the husky pile-driver that I had given birth to, back deep inside me. Gone were any and all inhibitions against mother and son sex. I gave myself to my son without reservations, like a bride to her groom on their wedding night.
Oh, the beauty of it. Mother/ son sex may be sinful, but my heart skipped a beat and a warm glow enveloped me as I looked down between us and watched with pride my son's bone-hard penis entering me, sliding deeply into my juicy and throbbing love-canal to work its wonders in me, fucking me vigorously to bring louder and louder moans of passion from me, until my insides were sprayed with his life-giving sperm.
My son's fucker did not give me a moment's rest that fateful morning. It hammered away endlessly in me giving me countless mind-blowing orgasms that my body had hungered for.
It was a day neither of us could ever forget because his seed took root and I will proudly bear my son a child. Living as man and wife with a man almost half my age, has taken years off mine. I feel like a young newlywed when I am in his arms and he makes love to me. Worry-free and well-fixed financially, something his late father took care of, my son and I are enjoying life to its fullest.
With an extremely happy relationship with my son, I cannot help but recommend the sexual union of a mother and her male offspring if they desire it and have the gumption to do it.
I hope my confession will bring other similar mothers and sons to a sexual relationship. I wish to convey my thanks to the author who put the notion of sex with mom in to my son's mind.