Impregnating MombySam Jason©
"You just don't get it. There's no talking to you. Enough."
"I think it would be more of a sin or a crime if a little baby couldn't get to know you and love you like I do. That would be a crime. You're a great mother and you showed me that every day. That's why I want to do this for you. But, you don't see that part because your mind is closed."
"You know how much I love you, darling. C'mere and give mommy a hug."
Shawn walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me, and I pulled him close to my chest. His head rested right between my boobs.
"I keep thinking of how happy we'll all be with a baby in the house. You, me, and Dad. He'll be so proud. You know how he always wants to be the big shot and think he's never wrong."
I rested my cheek against the top of his head and said, "Shawn, if it were just that easy, but it isn't. Sometimes you think doing something wrong is justified, but it always turns itself around and becomes messy. Do you understand?"
I took his face in my hands and looked into his eyes, and put my forehead on his. What he did next took me by surprise: he raised up on his tiptoes and kissed me full on the lips. Not hard, and not quick, but a full kiss. Once I got over the shock, I pulled my head back, and pulled away from him.
As he loosened his embrace, he let his hands drag over my ass, giving a little squeeze.
"Four days, Mom. Four days to think about it and realize that we have an opportunity that may never come again and you'll be sorry you missed. Besides, I have a plan of how we'd do it so that even you will have to admit will cause the least amount of trouble. Promise you'll think about it."
Sunday night. Arthur would be leaving on Tuesday morning, and it had been a constant barrage of reasons and explanations from Shawn. He was relentless, and without my strong doubts, fears, and guilt, he might have started wearing me down. The one thing that he had convinced me of was that I was never going to have another baby. I knew that I had been holding a false hope with Arthur, and now Shawn's reasoning had killed that.
It left a void inside me. I would have to learn to live with that. I resolved that the circle around the 14th would be the last one I would ever draw on a calendar. I had done it for 10 years, done it 120 times. And, as I looked at it, I looked with eyes without hope, with eyes deadened by logic and fact.
"Looking forward to the big day, Mom?" Shawn asked behind me.
I looked away from the calendar, and said, "Just the opposite. You persuaded me that I should never try again. So, maybe you did some good after all. You got me to realize what a foolish dreamer I've been for so long."
"The only part you were foolish about was counting on Dad."
"Shhh! He'll hear you."
"Dad? No way. You know how he sleeps. He's out for the night. That gives me and you another chance to talk a little."
"No more, Shawn. We've been over and over this, and I've had enough. What I can't understand is how you could even think of doing this with your own mother. I mean, how could you even get 'interested' in me."
"You mean excited? Mom, you have to be kidding. You're one of the most beautiful women around. No kidding. All the guys at school go crazy when you walk by. Now THAT'S embarrassing for me. You should hear the comments they make."
"I think your imagination is just working overtime now."
"No it's not. Not one bit. Look at you. You've got such a great body."
"SHAWN! Don't you dare talk to your mother like that."
"I can't help it, Mom. I'm only telling the truth. Your tits are perfect, and your round ass is just too cute when you wear those jeans of yours."
"I'm not going to stand here and listen to any more of this. Either go watch TV or go to bed. NOW!"
That tone in my voice used to send Shawn scurrying. But, he didn't scurry. In fact, he took a step toward me and said, "I'd love to see you naked, Mom. I'd love to see you without these clothes, without your underwear. Just naked. To see these tits, your nipples."
With that he reached to cup my breasts, but I stopped him by grabbing hold of his wrists.
"Stop it! You're crossing the line, and I won't let that happen. I still think you're fooling yourself if you think you could perform sexually with your own mother. You'd just embarrass yourself!" I hissed the last words at him, trying to get him to feel some shame.
This time, it was his turn to grab MY wrist. In one swift motion, he took my right hand and thrust it past the loose elastic waistband of his running shorts. My hand came into contact with a rock-hard shaft of flesh. It was red hot and wet with precum. I tried to pull back, but he held me there while looking into my eyes.
"Does THAT feel like I'm embarrassed?"
Shawn let go of my hand, and I realized my fingers had involuntarily tried to encircle his penis. It was so thick, they didn't meet on the far side. He took hold of my wrist once more and pulled it gently up and down. My tightened fingers pulled the skin of his cock up towards the head and then down towards the base.
As if from a dream, I recoiled, and yelled at him: "GET OUT OF HERE!"
"Okay, Mom. For now. But, just think what this could do," he pointed to the huge bulge in his shorts, "to deliver my cum deep inside you where it needs to go to get you pregnant."
"Get out," I hoarsely whispered.
When he left, I looked down at my open palm. It was glistening with my son's juices.
Here it was--Monday. Arthur would be leaving tomorrow and I would be left with a showdown with my son. And, if I had to admit it, a showdown with myself. When this whole thing started just last week, it was all so clear to me. I would have still had my dream of someday having a baby through normal methods. But Shawn had come up with so many arguments for going behind Arthur's back and using his sperm to accomplish the deed.
It almost sounded reasonable when I thought about it all together. But, as easy a solution that might be, it was also so wrong I knew I could never go through with it. After all, he was my son, and not even old enough to know his own mind. He was still a child.
A child except in one major department. His huge cock. I couldn't believe he had forced me to touch it yesterday. I HOPE he forced me, because it was all hazy about what had actually happened. My fingers did actually tighten on it an jack it back and forth a little. But, I reasoned to myself, that's just a reflex and I shouldn't feel guilty about it.
"I'm still a woman, after all, and I was just responding," I said out loud to myself. I was finishing showering. I put on a fresh pair of white panties and a lacy bra. Over these I wrapped myself in my green robe and tied the belt tight.
All my thinking made me even me more confused. The way my son was acting--was he trying to be helpful and solve the very real problem of my pregnancy, or was he merely a horny teen who saw an opportunity? I didn't know.
And my own shameful behavior. Had I been sexually unsatisfied for so long that the sight of a penis could make me act inappropriately with my own son. Maybe if Shawn had a normal penis all this wouldn't even be a question now. But, when I saw all that sperm of his, and how forcefully it shot out, and the density and volume of it, I think something in my body--the part that really wanted to have a baby--responded and craved it in a primal way that I still couldn't shake.
I think Shawn sensed that somehow. That he knew he had something that I needed desperately. Somehow he knew that on a basic male level. He felt the female want and need inside me to mate and bear a baby because of that mating.
He was using that against me, and I had to try with all my might to last these next few days, to do the right thing.
"Mandy! Do me a favor!" Arthur called from the bedroom.
I wished he would have done ME a favor and gotten me pregnant in the last ten years. Then all this would not be an issue.
"What do you want?" I called back.
"Go ask Shawn where my tackle box is. He used it last, and I want to pack it in the trunk of the car tonight. I have to leave early, you know."
I had been avoiding Shawn as much as possible. I couldn't even look him in the eye today, and talked as little as I could. Whenever I did look at him, my eyes couldn't help but go to his crotch, thinking of that thick monster that could be activated by thoughts of his own mother. He, on the other hand, acted as if nothing had happened. All he did was keep reminding me that it would be so simple for me to get pregnant with his help.
My bare feet made no sound as I approached Shawn's room. He had taken his shower before me, and I surmised he was already dressed. I knocked on the door.
"Shawn, your father needs his tackle box," I said.
"Come on in, Mom. It's not locked."
I sighed and rested my head against the closed door. I had entered his room a thousand times in the past without the slightest thought, but here I was, hesitant--maybe even afraid--to confront my son. I put my hand on the doorknob, turned it, and entered.
Shawn was standing in front of his mirror, brushing his hair back. He had his shower towel tied around his waist.
"You finished your shower too, I see," he said.
"Give me your father's fishing stuff and I'll leave you to finish dressing."
"It's in here someplace, Mom. I have to remember where. And, I can finish dressing while we look."
With that, he brought his hand to the top of the towel and pulled it off. He threw it on the bed, and stood there grinning at me--completely naked.
"Shawn! I'm leaving!" I tried to get to the door, but he got there first and pressed his naked back against it. I tried to reach around him and grab at the doorknob, but his hand was grabbing too--he hooked his fingers in the belt of my robe and undid it in one quick motion.
Before I could react, he opened it wide and looked at my scantily-clad body. My bra was semi-transparent, so I knew he could see my nipples. My panties were sheer white, putting the dark triangle of my pubic hair on display for his prying eyes.
"Very nice, Mom. You have an even better body than I imagined. I was hoping you were naked, though. We could fix that, you know."
Shawn then tried to wiggle his fingers into the waistband of my panties. I knew if I didn't stop him right there, they would be at my ankles in seconds. I grabbed his wrist--hard so he knew I meant business.
"No way you're going to see me naked, Shawn. No way."
"I figured you were a prude like that, so that's why I made my plan that I told you about." He let go of my panties, and stepped closer, so his face was only inches from mine.
"My plan to deliver that big load of sperm right up to your eggs that are all ready for it. I figured you wouldn't want to be naked. No--that would be too normal and make you feel you're really doing something wrong. So I want you to be wearing your nightgown and robe, the one you're wearing right here, and have all the lights off. I come in the room in the dark, climb on top of you, do my part, and then I read that you should elevate your feet and hips for a few hours to let the sperm really have a chance to work before you let any drip out. I'll help you with that and then leave. Then we'll never talk about it again. That's my plan. All in the dark and all finished in just a few minutes. So simple."
I had to admit, it did sound simple and really quite antiseptic when you came down to it. It wasn't even like real sex, the way he was explaining it. Almost like a medical procedure.
Suddenly, I was aware of a pressure at the entrance of my vagina. While Shawn had been talking, he had gotten a massive erection that had found its way between my legs as we stood facing each other. All that separated a son's cock from his mother's vagina was the thin layer of fabric that made up the crotch of the panties.
I pulled away and retied my robe.
"Where's the damned tackle box, Shawn?"
"Right there, under the bed. The silver thing."
I looked and saw it tucked about two feet in. I went over and knelt down, reached in and pulled it out. When I went to stand up, Shawn was standing right in front of me, his enormous erect cock just inches from my face as I knelt.
I had seen it erect that one time through the crack of the door. That hadn't prepared me for the sight that was before me. It was long and thick and hard and shiny with that precum that he seemed to have in endless supply. Shawn was circumcised and the head of his penis was smooth and light purple, except for the rim of the mushroom-shaped flair--that was dark purple. It looked incredibly hard, and my mind went back to the feel of it. It throbbed gently up and down with his heartbeat.
It was beautiful while inducing a vague fear in me.
I had my left hand on the top of the bed, steadying my kneeling form. Shawn reached for it and guided it to his testicles. I seemed to be in a trance. Everything was in slow motion. He turned my palm up and made me cup and weigh his balls. They felt unnaturally heavy.
"I haven't jerked off since you saw me last week. All that's for you. All that sperm in my balls will be inside you tomorrow. That's going to finally make that baby."
"It's not going to happen, Shawn. There's no way on earth I'm going to allow that to happen with my own son, no matter how much I want a baby! No way, Shawn!"
"Don't you wonder what this will feel like deep inside you, Mom?"
He took my other hand and guided it to his shaft. My fingers automatically curved around it. I thought he would move my hand, but he let go of it completely. As if on its own, my hand gently, slowly, almost imperceptibly moved away from me and then reversed and came back. Then again. And again. My fingers tightened slightly, and the squeeze sent a gooey string of precum dripping from the large, black hole that tipped Shawn's cock.
Before it could stretch and fall to the floor, Arthur's voice yelled from the other side of the house: "You find it?"
"Mom's got it!" Shawn yelled back.
It was as if I had awoken from a dream. I let go of those sperm-bloated balls and released my hold on his shaft with the other hand. I tried to push myself up to a standing position, but Shawn had his hand on my shoulder, making it impossible.
He said, "Here," and stepped forward. He took his right hand, grabbed his cock, and before I knew what was happening, he painted my closed lips with the juice I had just squeezed off the tip of his cock.
"Shawn!" I yelled while turning my head.
He helped me stand, put the handle of the tackle box into my hand, and put his arm around me as he guided me to the door. I turned to say something, say something about how this should have never have happened and that it was wrong, but he spoke first.
He stepped back, pointed to his cock, and said, "This is what's waiting for you tomorrow when we fuck!"
I was in a daze. I walked back to our bedroom, and just before handing Arthur the tackle box, licked my lips.
I awoke to the sounds of Arthur in the bathroom. I looked at the clock; it was 5 a.m. Early--then I realized he was leaving on his fishing trip. And, I realized this was the day Shawn had been waiting for.
Well, he was going to be a very disappointed boy. After today, all this drama would be a thing of the past and we could get on with our family life in a normal manner.
I reached to the nightstand out of habit and grabbed the oral thermometer. I took my temperature and looked at the reading: 99.5 degrees. What? That's almost a whole degree above normal. That meant .... Oh, no. It couldn't be. Not today.
I reached into my panties and inserted my middle finger deep into my vagina, close as I could to my cervix. I pulled it out and looked at the cervical mucous. I rubbed it between my fingers: it was smooth and clear, just like egg whites.
"Oh no," I said out loud, "I'm ...I'm ovulating. Of all days today--I'm ovulating! If Shawn fucked me today--with all that sperm--I'd get pregnant for sure."
Suddenly, I was shocked by what I had just said. That son of mine had my thinking all scrambled. I had to remember that there simply was no possibility that I would have sex with my own son. No possibility. It was just so wrong. That was incest. One of the strongest taboos in all societies. Shawn would have to learn that today.
There are some lines that can't be crossed.
I had to admit that he had done a lot in the past week to prove his case. He had laid out all the facts about why he was the only chance I had to have another child. He was probably right there. I was now resolved that Shawn would be my only. That was just how it had to be. I was 42 years old, and I would live out my life with one wonderful son. Period. I could get used to that, I guessed.
I was amazed at how Shawn's persuasiveness had almost seduced me. His cock had some hypnotic power, for sure. It was probably being so unsatisfied for so long sexually. I craved some affection, some closeness, some passion. All things that I hadn't felt in years (or maybe never). Shawn had asked me to imagine what his penis would feel like inside me.
"I'll never know," I whispered to myself.
Arthur came out of the bathroom and said, "I'm heading for the kitchen for a quick bite to eat. Why don't you get up and say goodbye?" He rushed out of the bedroom without waiting for an answer.
I got up and stumbled to the toilet. I pulled my panties down and sat to pee. Looking down, I noticed something I had never seen before: the inner crotch panel of my white panties was a light tan color. I ran my finger along the wide stain. It flaked up, layer after layer. I sat there puzzling about what this could be. Then it came to me:
"I got my panties wet last night. This is dried lubrication. Shawn--he must have got me horny. My own son must have gotten my vagina wet."
I sat there for a minute, ashamed of myself. It was one thing for a teenager with raging hormones to want to ejaculate at anything that moves. It's another for a mature woman to have her body ready itself for sex with her own son.
Arthur sat at the counter, having a cup of coffee and one of those toaster things. Shawn was up too. Arthur must have roused him for the "big sendoff."
"Shawn's telling me that you two have big plans while I'm gone," Arthur said.
A shock went through me. All the horrid shameful things that had transpired flashed before my mind. If Arthur ever found out about anything ....
"Yeah, Mom. Tell Dad how we're going to build something together." Shawn laughed, enjoying the inside joke he was thought he was sharing.
Thinking quickly, I said, "Errr, yeah, we're going to finally arrange all those loose photos into an album."
"Wow!" Arthur said. "I've been wanting to do that for years. I guess it took my son to do something his Dad couldn't!"
"Something you couldn't get done, Dad. I'm going to really enjoy seeing the look on your face when you see my handiwork."
Shawn looked straight into my eyes when he said this. His dad, of course, was clueless that his son's handiwork meant impregnating his wife.
Arthur finished and before leaving told Shawn, "You're the man of the house. Take good care of your Mom. Promise."
"Dad, you can count on me. I'll give her everything she wants most!"
Of course, Shawn knew what I wanted most was another child.
"Good, good," Arthur said. "See you on Thursday. You know what day THAT is, Mandy!"
He was wrong though. Thursday wasn't my day to ovulate as the calendar guessed. Today was.
"Now we're finally alone, Mom. I almost laughed when Dad talked about Thursday. Like that was going to be any different than all the other days he couldn't get the job done."