I seduced mother and made her my incestuous mistress!
incessantly incestant SON
Insidiously & insisting, inserting insinuously my member,
I seduced mother and made her my incestuous mistress!
by Oediplex 8==3~
Would mother kick me out of bed?
It is an early June morning, 1973, in Connecticut. I am home from graduate school, for several weeks now. My sister is living in Boston. My father is on a business trip this week. A lazy Tuesday morning, my mother is still in bed, it's only seven thirty. She and I are the only ones in the house. I have decided it is time to put my daring plan in action. I hope not to ruin things, but I am obsessed with the thought of incest with my mother. I quietly move from my room to sneak into hers. She lies still. I slip into bed with her.
I am wearing only my jockey shorts. She has on a mid-length satin nightgown, that she wore the evening before, when we had been downstairs, reading in the living room. I don't know if she has panties on underneath, but I am betting she does not. That will make my seduction easier, if it is to succeed. I risk quite a lot on this venal venture, but I believe it is a calculated chance, to try to connect with my maternal parent in a carnal way. It is sinful, that which I, her son, seek to fulfill with my mother. But if she succumbs, it will be sweet for both of us. The percale cotton sheets are cool, as I slide in between them, to sidle up next to my mom.
In a moment, she will wake, then hell breaks loose, or heaven is at hand; depending on how I handle her. If she will listen to reason, if I can convince her of my motives, make her accept my initial intimacy, then I may gain the goal. If I can get her to acknowledge the arguments I present, see the wisdom of my proposal, perceive the opportunity we might share, then I can proceed. If not, I'm in big trouble. But I think I can persuade her. I think I can assuage her fears. I am confident that my abilities to satisfy her physical needs, are more than adequate.
+ + + + + +
In those ancient times this happened, there was a new wave of liberation, which allowed erotic material to be commonly available. (If you knew where the adult stores were.) Before, not so many years previous, the best was either what would be R-rated now days, or classics, like the Karma Sutra, The Perfumed Garden, Lady Chatterley's Lover. But in the early Seventies, the publishing of dirty books flourished. Incest was openly written about in wildly graphic terms, by the likes of Grace Wilkinson, Jon Reskin, and Kathy Andrews. These were eagerly bought by he who writes these words, stashed under the mattress, well used. They opened easily to the naughtiest portions; the oily spots, from Vaseline coated fingers, smudging the pages.
Likely, my mom had seen some, when she changed my sheets. So she made me make my bed, instead of being confronted with her son's fetish, with my perverted desires for sex with my mother. The titles were blatant, no mistaking their subject matter. However, she must have kept silent on the subject. My father never knew of my personal kink, until after mother had passed. By then, any help he might have lent to my mission, was never able to be manifested. But also by then, I had accomplished my resolution to convert mom, to have her be my lover. My father was honorable, if not always faithful. He was a man of the world, but understood his family too little, to make things right.
Dad was generous, but he had not the inner resources to seek help for the marital difficulties, that beset their relationship. Thus, the stage was set for my foray into my parents bed, exploiting my mother's emotional vulnerability, entering her body with my loving flesh. I had concluded by observation – listening actually, rather than viewing – that their love life was nil, was no longer an active part of what was between them. Mother was effectively celibate. My father was getting his satisfaction elsewhere, if at all. He was not taking care of his spousal duties. This was the setting for my mother's seduction, the scenario that allowed it to be completed, the circumstances I encountered when finally I managed to copulate with mom.
+ + + + + +
I waited, with my elbow propping up my head, turned on my right side toward her. My prick was rock hard despite my nervousness. Mom yawned, and opened her eyes. When she saw me, she became alarmed and awoke instantly.
“David! What do you think you're doing?”
“Don't freak-out mom, I have a favor to ask you.”
“You don't have to climb in bed with me, to do that!”
“Well, that kind of has to do with the favor. Just listen and you'll understand. Please?”
“Okay, but make it quick, then I have to get up.”
“It's like this. I have had plenty of experiences with girls, making out, and such . .”
“Uh-huh, I know you've dated quite a lot.”
“Yes, but not so much lately, it's hard to meet gals, when everybody in graduate school is running in a different direction. My love life is rather paltry at the moment.”
“Okay, but why are you in my bed?”
“I'm getting to that. I'm now twenty five, and I have never really had the experience of . . . to cuddle with a woman in bed. I get so lonely. I just want to see what it's like. Could we snuggle a little, please mom?”
“I'm your mother, I don't think that it would be such a good idea for us to do that.”
“Remember how you taught me to dance?”
“This is different, David.”
“And how you gave me back rubs, when I had scoliosis (curvature of the spine), and I was in a back-brace for three years.”
“Yes, but . .”
“Now days, I give you back rubs, and leg-rubs when you're tired, after a long day of housework.”
“And that is much appreciated.”
“Well, this is just like that stuff. It's a way to help me know what it's like, to hug and hold someone you love in bed. I just want to experience that for once, rather than having to clutch my pillow, and pretend it's a female. That's all I want. Is it so much to ask, for a few just a minutes? Then I'll get up and help you with the chores.”
“Okay, for a few minutes, then I have a list of things you can do.”
“Great mom! Thanks!” I scootched over and took her in my arms. Step one, done. Next the soothing strokes. I held mom, and she returned my hug, not awkwardly at all. It seemed quite natural. My hands on her back began to slide up and down the silky material of her gown. I stayed to just her back bone, and above the waist, not straying with my hands. I did certified that she had no bra on, underneath. I was sure of that however, since her breasts were pressing against my chest; I could feel the nipples, they were nice firm buttons.
“I'm sorry you get lonely at school. Do you have a crowd here in town that you hang around with, that you might date some of those girls?”
“Not yet. Don't you get lonely when dad's out of town on his trips?”
“Of course I do, but then he comes back, and we are together again.”
“But you guys don't make love any more.”
“That's private. What made you say that?”
“Well,” My hands now commenced to roam slightly lower, to the top of her hips and then to her shoulders again, making a broad circuit. As I thought, no panties either. “I used to hear you and dad making love regularly. I haven't heard a thing since I got back. I didn't hear anything at Christmas time, either. Have you stopped doing it altogether?”
“Yeah, I remember having to chase you back to bed, when you were a Senior in High School, so we could get some privacy.” You don't still listen at our door, do you?” Then she said, as an aside, not so much for my ears, as expressing her frustration, “Not that there is anything to hear, lately . .”
Naturally, since I was hugging her close, I heard that remark, made under her breath. I picked up on that, as I moved my left leg, which was higher, to between her legs. “So, you two aren't having relations, I didn't think so. Is dad having an affair?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Okay, are you?”
“David! No, I'm not having an affair!”
“Well, what about dad?”
Mom got a real sad look on her face and hugged me tighter. “I . . I don't think so, but sometimes . .” She was about in tears, “I sometimes wonder if he is messing around with a secretary. I don't mean his own, I trust her, she's married with three kids. But some of the younger ones I've seen, when I went into his office in the city . . . they are awfully attractive . . . and I'm just an old . .” Now she was crying, “an old cow!”
I held her and began to kiss her cheeks. “No you aren't, you're very beautiful, you still have lots of sex appeal, mom. You are not an old cow.” I was kissing her forehead, her cheeks, then her ears, then her eyelids, then her mouth. “I think you are very hot, I love holding your gorgeous body. You are still a very attractive woman.”
“”No, I'm not.” But the weeping had nearly stopped.
“I think you are. This is proof.” I pushed my erection into her abdomen.
She laughed (thank God!) and backed away slightly. “You can't fool me, that's your piss woodie. Now let's get up.”
“No it's not. You gave that stiffy to me, I love the feel of your body next to mine.”
“It's true mom. I think your breasts are very pretty.”
“When did you see my bosom?”
“The other day, when you were changing, I started to come in, but I saw what you were doing, and I backed out. But I got to see them.” A lie.
“I didn't see you.”
“Your back was to the door, I saw in the mirror.”
“You liked them? They sag.”
“Just a little, the nipples were very attractive.”
“They're brown and wrinkled and plain.”
“If I could see them right now, I'd kiss them!”
“I . . couldn't let you do that.”
“But I already saw them, they are very pretty.”
“I mean, I couldn't let you kiss them.”
“Let me look at one.” I pulled nightie's front down and to one side. The right one was half out, with that bold tug.
She let it peak out, the nipple was the oval one. I remembered it, from when I had barged in on her naked, one time when I was eight. I put a hand on the underside of that peak-a-boob and pushed it to pop out. I bent my head down to her bust, and kissed the ruddy cap in the middle. Then I gave it a little tiny suckle too.
“OH! God, David! Don't! I'm your mother. You mustn't, we can't . .”
“I love you mom. I want you to know how beautiful you really are. It's not wrong for a boy to suckle his mommy's teat, that's what they were made for.”
“You're not a little boy anymore, and they don't give milk anymore, and you had better not do that anymore.” But, she didn't put it back in!
“No I'm not young anymore, but you are still gorgeous, and that's what they were made for too. Didn't it feel good? If they have been neglected, I would be happy to show them they are appreciated.”
“It's so naughty for you to do that.”
I leaned down once more, and this time spent more than a minute tonguing and sucking the ruddy oval of her tit. “It's so nice to do it, though!”
“Yess, it iss!” Step two! Now to raise the stakes, and see if I could get to third. Step by step!
“Mom,” I began to run my hands on her rear, caressing the buns, and touching the crack through the thin material. I think you've seen the sort of books I have under the mattress.?”
“Yes,” My hands were now feeling her breasts, one in - one out. My dick was definitely making contact with her bush area. She wasn't pulling away, either. “The dirty books are about something, one thing, they all have in common.”
“Incest . . .”
“Yes,” my hands are slipping inside her nightgown and reaching for both knockers at the same time. “about sons and mothers. I have a desire to love you mom.”
“I know.” She has to feel my dick at her loins. I kissed her lips and begin to French her. Mom hesitates, then kisses me back. I lift her gown so that it goes over her head, with a little wiggling, we get it off and her naked. “You - you really have a lust for your mom?”
“Yes, I do.” I take her hand and place it on my hard-on.
“It's big and hard, for me?”
“Yes, for you mom, I have one every morning, and at night too, just for you. Everyday, just for you.”
“What are we going to do about that?”
I reach down and grab the waist band of my shorts and yank them down to my knees. Mother's hand clutches my rod, and begins to lightly stroke it. She knows how to handle that delicate instrument. I move my fingers down her torso to find the crinkly patch of her fur, and explore, seeking the divide and her lubrication. It is there, and wet. I dip my middle finger, draw up the oil, and find her clitoris.
“Ooh . . Yes, like that, do that!” She is now into our playing with each other's genitals, step three behind us, and I will move soon to my next target. I begin kissing her lips, and then my mouth travels to her full mammeries. I give due worship to both the oval, and the round tips, both are erect points. They are truly beautiful, they are so erotic. I then let my oral administrations work even lower. She is gasping, and she knows where her son is heading, to grant her cunnilingus, so long she has had to do without.
All she can whisper as my service to her pussy starts is, “Oh Honey, yes eat me, eat me nice!” I use my every trick, the variations of the lips, then tongue, then breathe – warm / cool, back to flicking tongue; again my lips suck her rosy pleasure nub all the way in and out and in. I am hardly able to get air, I am so plastered to her soaked crotch. However, I have a plan to stick by. I understand the physical mechanisms of my mother's body. I will trigger the event I want to happen, and then it there will be no stopping our consummation. We are already past the point of no return. Where she can think any rational thoughts, only absorb the love I poured upon her flesh. Her legs went wide and her welcome for her son was genuine.
+ + + + + +
She surely suspected, when she awoke to find me in her bed, what I had in mind. Yet she didn't create an almighty fuss. She let my rationale be hers for our close contact, our intimate cuddling that was not so innocent snuggling, but rather a prelude to foreplay. Yet she went along with my obvious ploy. She could have objected more strenuously when I began to pry into my parent's sex life, but she provided details. She admitted her insecurities about my father's fidelity. She was reduced to tears in my arms. She admitted she knew what I read, incest fantasies about mother and son, that I masturbated thinking of her.
Did she have in mind, that maybe we would become lovers, if she let all that take place? Or was it subconscious? I was not sure of anything, but the outcome of our present passion. I was going to make love to my mother. I returned to a simple lapping at her clit, and that did the trick. Mom, gave a cry, her legs opened wider, her pelvis tilted, her hips heaved. “Yes, now, put it in, put it in now! I need it, I want you too, Honey. Take me, fuck me, fuck your mommy!!!” She was almost blubbering in her craziness to get screwed, then and there, by me; her son who was showing her how very much I loved her, and wanted her body.
+ + + + + +
I rolled to be between her thighs, even as I kicked my jockeys completely off. I looked down, the sheet had fallen to the side, I saw her thick brown triangle of pubic hair, framing a red slit, and a dark cavity at the middle of it all. Her nub of a clit was sticking up like a pink teardrop pearl. I placed the head of my penis at the entrance of my mother's vagina, and pushed. I felt the bulb being engulfed by hot, wet tissue that offered no resistance. Her slick lubrication gave my penetration a smooth passage.
Once deeper in though, her muscles gripped the shaft, as if she could hug it internally with the walls of her womanhood. I slid all the way, not touching bottom, but so that my balls were mashed on her buns. I pulled half back, and thrust again, almost not believing I had gotten into the holy grail of incest. I watched the joining of our genitals, the grinding of our groins, the uniting of our loins. It was more graphic than any porno movie I had ever seen. But it was real. We were fucking, mom and I!
Her labia were clinging to my cock, as it pulled out, and then they disappeared as I stroked inward. She was moaning and saying, “So good, it's been so long, I love screwing! Oh God, baby, don't stop, make me cum! I'm going to cum big, don't stop!” I pounded away, the pleasure was beyond anything I had ever imagined. The simple few bangs of the only two girls I had previously made, had in no way neared the intensity of this wild ride on mom. It was not just the making love to a mature, experienced woman, it was the lust cum true of our fucking in incestuous passion. It went up to a whole other level, peaking, and then going even higher.
At last, as our bodies clapped together like a machine on overdrive speed, I was finally there, at my orgasm. I humped my prick into her pussy in lock mode, and flooded her chamber with a burst of creaming, I could not stop. Throb after throb, after pulsing throb, gushed from my jumping nuts out the hose of my boner, and into my mother's womb. We gasped ragged breaths, and sweat poured down our faces and bodies. She had soaked the sheets under her butt, with a great wet spot to mark where we had merged in sin. Her climax was right after mine, a long squeal, and clamping of legs around my waist, as her arms squeeze me hard as well.
But we didn't care what the consequences, at that moment. We had slaked our physical needs, that were pent-up for way too long a time. She was glad for her new lover. I was happy I had been able to give her the satisfaction she deserved. I was joyous that we had united finally, fantasy became the actual fact. I kissed her, and murmured sweet things to her, to reassure her that all was well. Then I turned her over, and pulled her hips to me. My dick once more was rising with the libido of the young man I was, in lust for the lady I loved, who knelt in submission before me.
Mom just laughed, as I entered her grotto again. “If I'd known that you had it this bad for me, Honey, you wouldn't have to have read so many of those dirty books of yours; we could have been doing this for years! Yes! Fuck me some more, I love you, I love your cock. Fuck me! Fuck mommy forever!!”