A Loving MotherbyHjarnbjardr©
Copyright © 2011 Hjarnbjardr
DISCLAIMER: This story involves strong themes of sex and incest.
When I got pregnant at eighteen, my husband did the right thing and married me. Somehow we managed to defy the odds and are still together. In some ways the story of our lives thus far has been somewhat classic, pretty boring honestly -- or at least on the surface it would appear that way. Recently, though, some things happened that have changed all of that. Now, we're a much closer family than ever, still sharing a lot of our lives together -- some of which may surprise you.
Our eighteen year old son is still living with us while he attends college. He is "between girlfriends," as he likes to say. I'm sure he's been laid plenty of times based on when he's come and gone from the house and judging by how his dates were dressed, but despite that he still seems very awkward about women and sex.
Well, I recently noted that when I'd be up in the morning getting ready to go to aerobics - wearing my white spandex aerobics outfit -- that his eyes seemed to linger on me quite a bit. Now, I'm 36 and do aerobics religiously every morning, and I know I look good for my age, but it didn't even enter my mind -- at least not to start with -- that my son might be thinking anything unusual.
But at some point I realized that he was staring at me just a bit too much. I started using the microwave door as a mirror, and was surprised to see him blatantly gawking at my ass. This surprised me, and I wasn't quite ready to accept it. So the next day, I did a bit more of a test, positioning myself so I could see his reflection while posing my ass provocatively, and sure enough, his eyes were glued to my rear.
It took me a couple of days to think through this, and I finally accepted the fact that my son seemed to be admiring my body. I was proud of this, since I worked hard to look this good, but at the same time I was both terribly embarrassed about it and clueless about how to handle the situation. It isn't unusual for boys to take an interest in their mother, and mine had certainly had phases like this when he was younger but they always seemed to pass.
But when I tried to talk to my husband about what was happening, he just laughed and told me to give the boy a show if he wanted one. "He's an 18 year old that's ready to go, and you're hot -- what do you expect, dear?" he'd said. Either he wasn't taking it seriously enough, or I was taking it too seriously, and I didn't know which. All I knew was that it had me a bit on edge.
Somehow, I was going to have to figure this out.
My husband is always long gone by this time of the day, being up and out very early in the morning, so I decided that I was going to be a bit intentionally provocative. I thought that I might be able to instigate a discussion where we could discuss it openly.
So, Monday morning I did a bit of a test, pulling the material at the crotch tight up against me, and also working the material up between my labia in order to create a major camel-toe, using ice cubes to harden my nipples, and then going in to the dining room to see my son. Yes, this was quite perverse of me to do and I realize that, but I've always been a bit of an exhibitionist and I wasn't showing him any actual flesh.
I checked myself in the mirror before going in. I was five foot five, several inches shorter than my son, with my long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail like it always was for aerobics. I wore a white sleeveless leotard because I thought the white really showed off my nice Mediterranean skin tone. I had a nice toned body, and I liked showing it off a bit. My nipples were poking out visibly, and I was a bit shocked at just how vulgar my camel-toe looked. I fought the urge to hide it. The whole point was to show it off, after all, in hopes of provoking some discussion. In other words, I was hoping to make him admit to his sexual interest in me so that we could talk about it.
I was grinning as I entered the room, since I figured he'd surely make some kind of smart remark, cover his eyes, tell me to cover myself and quit being vulgar, etc. - but he didn't. Instead he visibly struggled to hide his very obvious interest and I could tell how he was trying to look at me without seeming like it.
I was not expecting this at all and I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. So I let the playful grin go, and instead went about my business in the kitchen, flaunting my body at him a bit playfully and noticing that he was certainly watching me closely. I stood so that he could take in the sight of my nipples and camel toe if he wanted to -- and it seemed to be all that he could do not to stare.
I finally decided that he was just calling my bluff. He thought that if I wanted to play, he was going to teach me a lesson and I'd end up being the one embarrassed.
I left things really low key, pretending like nothing was going on. But when I left that morning, I made sure to give him a big hug, pressing my chest against him, and my abdomen against his. I was truly shocked to feel my son's erection against me, and I glanced quickly in his eyes. The look told me everything. He was ashamed to have been hard, and even moreso for me to have felt of it. Acting spontaneously, I 'accidentally' bumped his arm so that his hand brushed against my nipple which made him even more embarrassed. "Sorry, I don't know why they're so hard," I said, thrusting my chest out a bit so that he could see my nipples clearly.
He seemed to freeze for a moment as he took in the sight of my chest and erect nipples being so prominently displayed for him. I could see his hesitation as he struggled with himself over what to do, then he got a mischievous look in his eye and reached out to pinch my nipple lightly. "Damn mom, you're going to poke an eye out with those things!" he said, grinning at me. I had not expected him to touch my breast, but I felt a jolt of excitement shoot through me when he did.
I smacked his hand away, saying, "Yeah, but you like them don't you, you horny little shit!" I said. "Now they're uneven and you know how I hate to be uneven. You have to pinch them both so they feel the same," I said, using my personal pet peeve as an excuse to get him to touch me again. I was one of those weird people who didn't like only one hand to be wet -- they had to both be wet. Both sides of my body needed to have symmetry to such tactile sensations or I didn't like it. I was playing on his idea in daring him to pinch my other nipple so they'd both feel the same. I didn't think he'd do it, but again he surprised me.
"It's not a crime to be horny," he said grinning, "but I'm not the one with the major nipple action going on." Then he reached out and pinched both my nipples firmly, tugging on them and rolling them between his fingers. Knowing that my son had a boner while he touched me that way aroused me powerfully.
I felt my knees grow weak and bit my lip with the pleasure of my son's fingers on my nipples. He held onto them longer than really needed, and grinned as he began squeezing them tighter and tighter with a look of challenge on his face. He was testing me! But I found that it wasn't the burning sensation in my nipples that I was thinking about. I was consumed with the idea that my son had an erection.
I let him squeeze as hard as I could take it and finally said "OK that's enough" somewhat sharply, swatting his hands away as I felt myself growing far more aroused than I'd expected. I quickly excused myself and left the house, surprised and ashamed at what I'd just done and how aroused I'd gotten by it.
I spent the rest of the day thinking about his erection pressing against me, and the sensation of his fingers on my nipples. They burned for a short bit from his squeezing, and I found that my arousal grew as I thought about it. I was quite ashamed at how sexually aroused I'd gotten by the idea of my son being erect for me like that, and the way he'd grasped my nipples.
Once again, that evening I tried to talk to my husband he was just as dismissive as before. He'd said, "Honey, look. He's eighteen and hasn't gotten laid recently, and you go walking around that tight little outfit of yours. Face it, sweetie, you've got a great body, and you can't blame the boy. If it bothers you, wear something else to cover up, OK?" I realized he was right about everything. But somehow covering up wasn't an option for me. I wanted him to see me now more than ever.
I told myself that this was one of those "how far will the other person go" things. I wasn't sure of the answer for myself, much less for him, but I wasn't going to just drop it either, and I certainly wasn't going to cover up. So far it had been very fun and exciting for me, so why not take it up a step if that's what he wanted?
The next day I again prepared my camel-toe for him to see, and teased my nipples into erection, and I noticed that he seemed even more willing to allow his eyes to linger on my nipples and groin, and I could see his erection grow as I walked about the kitchen, bending over so he could enjoy the sight of me from behind - I have nice legs, and I know it. I eventually sat on the couch, stretching out my legs for his visual enjoyment. We then pretended to chat, while he pretended not to be looking at my legs.
When I gave him a hug goodbye, I let myself relax into his muscular arms a bit, and was surprised at how good he felt. My son had grown into a tall, strong man, and I could feel his erection against my belly. I didn't let that bother me, just enjoying the feeling of his arms around me, my chest pressed against him as I felt his hand gradually drop lower and lower until it was finally resting on the top of my buttock. I sighed, pressing against him tighter, and he seemed to take this as a cue.
He reached both hands down, running them down my back and onto my ass where they ran all along my buttocks, groping and feeling what I think is a nice athletic ass. I felt myself growing flush with excitement and getting quite wet inside, and I unabashedly thrust my groin against my son's as he grasped my buttocks and pulled me tight against him, thrusting his erection against me. My arousal hit me like a tidal wave, my knees growing weak as my head seemed to swim with desire. He brought one of his hands around in front, running it up along my belly to my chest, where he took one of my nipples between his fingers and began gently massaging it. Sexual need was coursing through my body and I felt light-headed from the pleasure of it all.
Now, my son is quite attractive and stays in good shape. I had not intended any of this to happen, but in his embrace and feeling his erection against my belly, something came over me. I reached down and squeezed his hard member gently through his pants.
"Is something on your mind sweetie?" I said. I didn't want for an answer. This had all gone way too far, and I could feel a powerful conflict going on inside me. Somehow I had a moment of lucidity and realized that I had to stop this. I forced myself to leave, wishing him farewell and leaving. "Have a good day - and try not to hurt anyone with that thing!" I said on my way out.
I realized that I was leaving my son sexually aroused, and it struck me that he was probably going to masturbate as soon as I was gone. But the truth is that I got wet thinking about him home stroking while he thought about me.
That night my husband made love to me, but as he was going down on me, I found that it wasn't him I was thinking about.
The next morning, I went down dressed as usual to find that my son wasn't wearing quite his normal attire. He was wearing boxer briefs and a t-shirt, doing his homework while eating some cereal.
When it came time for me to go, he rose to give me a hug and as I embraced him, I could feel his erection pressing against me more than usual. I glanced down and pulled at his t-shirt to see that his penis was sticking out through the opening in his boxers. My first and most immediate thought was how large my son's penis was. Judging from my husband's six inches, my son's penis was at least seven inches long, and a good bit thicker than my husband's, too. It was beautiful.
I could tell he was pretending to be embarrassed as he said, "Umm sorry mom, I didn't mean..." I knew full well that it was no accident, and now I was going to call HIS bluff.
His voice trailed off as I took his erection between my fingers, squeezing it gently. I knew it was wrong, but something came over me when I saw his erection and knew it was hard specifically because of me. My son had a hard-on for me, and I was fascinated by the very idea of that beautiful cock being so aroused on my behalf. "Somebody's all grown up, I see... very grown up, indeed," I said, squeezing his hardness. He got very still and quiet as I held his manhood. I was holding my grown son's large erect penis in my hands, and I loved it.
I realized that our little game had suddenly taken a very radical turn, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. All I knew is that I felt like something had come over me, pushing logic aside. I can't quite explain why I did what followed.
"Ummm yeah," he said. Guys are so stupid sometimes.
"Does that feel nice?" I asked, running my fingers very lightly all over his shaft, teasing it so that it was bulging between my fingers. I felt my breath grow shallow when he stripped off his shirt, revealing his well-muscled body - he lifted weights and had great pecs. I wasn't even conscious of what I was doing as I lifted my other hand to massage his chest. His body was beautifully sculpted, lean and muscular, healthy without being over-developed, his penis large and swollen in my hand.
"You have a great body," he said, his penis bulging in my hand.
"Thanks, I work hard to stay in shape... and so do you," I said, squeezing his bulging shaft. I could feel myself getting really wet and I knew myself well enough to realize that I had better stop because I knew what was going to happen if I didn't.
My leotard was sleeveless, and he reached his hands up to slip the straps of both the leotard and my bra down off my shoulders, revealing my C cup breasts.
I felt myself tense as my son took my breasts into his hands, and then I relaxed again as he held them gently, fondling them, his finger poking playfully at my nipple.
"You have an incredible cock," I told my son, finding myself in immediate disbelief over what I'd just said. Did I really say that? His cock seemed to bulge in my hand in response.
His eyes were fixated on my breasts. "God you have really nice tits, mom," he said. I was both thrilled at his comment and appreciation for my breasts, while also being ashamed at my sexual excitement.
We stood there for a moment, my son fondling my naked breasts as I stroked his erect penis, until I realized that this had all suddenly gone much further than I had been prepared for. I loved the sensation of his hands on my breasts while I held his bulging penis in my hands, but I realized that I wasn't sure what that meant. I was surprised at just how much I enjoyed it, not knowing what it meant, but finding it hard to pull myself away, too. It seemed like at least a minute must have passed as we felt of each other. My excitement grew to a level that I wasn't prepared to deal with, and I felt powerful desires coursing through me.
I took my hands off of my son's cock and made a lame excuse for why I had to leave. But the truth was that I knew that if I'd stayed, that we'd have been fucking right there in the dining room in no time.
Late that night, I went downstairs to get a drink. The lights were out but I was hearing something so I tip toed around the corner to look into the living room. I inhaled sharply, seeing a porno movie on the TV, and the back of my son's head where he sat on the couch with his back to me. My husband was upstairs in bed and had taken a sleeping pill, so there wasn't any question who it was. From the rhythmic motion, I was certain he was masturbating.
I felt a thrill run through my body as something took over me. Confusing, complex emotions ran through my mind as the reality of what I was about to do settled in. I wasn't at all sure whether I was doing the right thing -- in fact, part of me questioned it strongly. What if he refused me? Our whole future could be at stake; I couldn't bear losing my son. But there was some instinctive part of me that knew what the outcome would be; somehow, I knew everything would be OK. And while I was scared, I also knew that sometimes you had to take some risks if you wanted to get the best things in life.
I took a deep breath, accepting that I was about to offer my body to my own son for sex. I found myself smiling, my body suddenly alive with anxious anticipation. My hands trembling, I quietly removed my sleeping shirt and bra, putting them in a chair, and then putting my robe back on, leaving it untied. The front of my robe was open, revealing my nudity beneath.
I crept over slowly until I'd come right up behind the couch, and could see my son taking his time leisurely stroking his erection. I marveled at his gorgeous cock, allowing myself to simply enjoy the sight of it without feeling ashamed. I was looking at my son's erect penis, and as I felt my womanhood grow moist with excitement, I simply let myself enjoy the arousal that coursed through my body. I wanted to mount my son and take his erection into me.
He was staring intently at the TV and didn't even notice me as I came around the couch and sat down right next to him, saying, "How's it going?" I smiled innocently, my eyes glancing from his eyes down to his swollen erection.
When he first saw me, he was startled, jumping slightly with alarm. But as he realized it was me, and the recognition of my partial nudity hit home, he relaxed, leaving his hand on his penis.
"Hey, mom, I'm fine - what are you doing down here so late?" he asked. While his words seemed to convey that nothing sexual was going on, his hand continued to slowly stroke his cock while he looked into the opening of my robe, his eyes searching out my flesh.
"I just came down to get a drink, and noticed that you seem to have a little problem on your hands there," I said, sliding over next to him as I rested my hand on his bare abdomen, inches away from his bulging member. "Do you have everything under control?" I asked, grinning.
"No, not really. I could kind of use some help," my son said, turning his hip slightly in order to bring his penis closer to my hand.
"Well then, let mommy see if she can help make it feel better," I said. A smile came over me as I took my son's penis into my hands, stroking it and massaging his balls. I took my time, giving him the sort of slow stimulation that's designed to build up a good head of steam on a man, as opposed to just quickly jacking him off. "Is that feeling any better?" I asked. He bit his lip, his breathing heavy as he reached his hand under my robe to fondle my breast.
In the background, as the woman in the movie climbed atop the man and mounted him, I could see my son thinking about the same thing. He wanted me to mount him, and as I felt his large swollen member pulsating in my hands and felt the wetness between my legs, my clitoris throbbed angrily with need. I wanted my son's penis inside me, and I as I looked into his eyes, I could see that's what he wanted, too.
I let my robe fall to the floor behind me and then climbed atop my son's lap, feeling his erection press between my vulva as I settled into position, straddling him. While my knees were outside his thighs, coming up next to his hips and thus parting me wide, I had crooked my feet back to the inside of his knees, thus enabling me to use my powerful thigh muscles to exert as much force against him as I liked. He would be unable to enter me until I allowed him.