tagIncest/TabooMy Mother, My Slut

My Mother, My Slut

bybtraven©

This story contains explicit details concerning a consensual, loving sexual relationship between a mother and son.

If any of this offends you DO NOT READ any further.

The following story was given to me for posting by B. Traven who does not have USENET access. It is part of a series of stories never published before that supposedly describing true case studies investigated by Dr. Traven. I'm not completely sure that Dr. Traven is not pulling my leg, but I'll let judge for yourself.

Dr. Traven is very interested in any comments or criticism on this story. I will be glad to forward any messages about this story to Dr. Traven, but note that it may be a while before he is able to respond since he is still on sabbatical in Mexico. I may post more of the Dr. Traven's stories, depending on Dr. Traven's wishes and reader responses.

Dr. Traven has released the following stories:

1) Taboo I 2) Hot for Hillary (Rodham Clinton) 3) Mother's Milk

This story is Dr. Traven's first in a year and a half. There are quite a few stories (or case studies as Dr. Traven calls them) that have not been released to the public yet. What's the holdup? First of all I need Dr. Traven's permission, who is not always the easiest person to get hold of. Second of all, I can not scan most of the stories because they are handwritten in Dr. Traven's chicken scrawl. Transcribing all this material by hand is not easy. Even worse, some of the older dog-earred manuscripts are even written in German. My high school German is a little rusty, and I'm quite sure my German vocabulary does not extend to some of the terms used in these stories! If you are interested in any of these stories please email me, and I'll see what I can do about releasing more.

*** Copyright (C) 1996 B. Traven


My Mother, My Slut by B. Traven

She sipped on a cup of tea as she read the newspaper with dreary eyes. She He looked up momentarily as he planted himself on the couch next to her.

"Hi," she said in a throaty voice. She met his eyes and a look of confusion came over her face before she quicky looked back down at the newspaper.

"Hi." She didn't see his wry smile.

He reached his hand at her front. His fingers found an opening in between two buttons of her blue pajama top.

He heard her make an audible gasp as his fingers entered the softness under her pajamas.

His fingers traced the soft curve of her left breast until they found the hardness of her nipple.

"No." she said in a hoarse whisper.

He cupped the heaviness of her breast in his palm at he playfully squeezed the nipple between his thumb and index finger.

"No. I don't want to."

His cock peeked out from the folds of his pajama bottom.

"No? You don't want to?" He pinched her nipple harder. "You don't expect me to believe that - do you, Mom?" With his other hand he reached for a button on her pajama top.

She looked over to him with wide, moist eyes. "Please, Mark. It's not right." Tears welled in her eyes. For a moment - just a moment - her act almost worked on him. She was good, very good, he thought.

He opened a button with one hand, while still cupping her soft breast with the other. He moved downward toward the next button.

"Ah, Mom. You always play this same game. But it always ends the same way - or rather _your_ end ends the same way." He chuckled as he opened another button.

"Let's face it, Mom." He twiddled his index finger playfully on her nipple. "I love you, Mom, but you're ..." He put his lips against her ear and whispered intimately, "... a _slut_."

"Look at you, Mom." He undid the last button and opened up her pajama top. "You pretend to sip your tea and read the Sunday paper. But you sit here with your tits hanging out." He slapped her left breast lightly, causing it to jiggle. "What am I supposed to do - you tell me! - ignore my hot, sexy mom who shamelessly exposes her big tits to her son?"

"B-but it was you ..."

"Oh, quit pretending. You weren't saying that last night. Or the night before. And I don't have to bring up last Saturday, do I?" He ran his hands over his mother's now-exposed breasts. "Oooh, Mom." He reached for the snap at her pajama bottom. "You're such a slut." The snap opened with a metallic ping. "You're such a hot slut mom. A sexy hot slut mom. So ... sexy." He planted a kiss on the side of her neck as his index finger probed the moistness between his mother's legs. She carefully set the cup of tea and the paper on the end table. Her movement caused her legs to open further. She gasped as he drove his finger up his mother's pussy.

"You know you're a hot, sexy slut mom. Don't you?" He moved his finger up and down in his mother's moistness." "Say it."

Her heavy breathing turned into panting.

"Say it. Say: you're a hot sexy slut mom."

"Ahhh..." she moaned anxiously.

He teased her earlobe with his tongue. "Say it, Mom." He bit down on the earlobe as he shoved both his thumb and his index finger deep into his mom's pussy.

"Oooh..."

"Say it, Mom."

"I'm ... a ... hot ... sexy ... slut ... mom."

"Just what I've always suspected, Mom." He kissed her full on the lips. His mom's heavy breats flattened against his chest. He could feel her body tremble under him. His tongue probed her mouth.

He reached under her and slipped his hands under the back of her silky pajama bottom. His mother's fleshy butt was warm and smooth.

He pulled away. She looked up at him with pleading, hungry eyes.

He felt his cock throbbing painfully. They both wanted it - needed it - badly. It was an obsession, an addiction. He could take his mom right here. It would be quick and hard. In his mind he could hear his mother's anxious moans as took her from behind as she leaned against the kitchen table. They would come together as they had so many times in the past. It would be so good - but it would be over too damned soon as they laid together on the hard linoleum floor exhausted and slick with each others persperation.

He looked down at his mother. Her bare right tit was hanging out from the open front of the pajamas. Her nipple was crinkled with excitement as she looked up at him with questioning eyes.

No. It would be too easy. It would be too easy for both of them to give into urges, only to be left empty and exhausted after a few fleeting moments of pleasure. No, there were other ways of lovemaking between a mother and a son that they had only recently discovered.

He smiled. "Get up, Mom." Her mouth was open and slack.

"Get up." he repeated more firmly.

His mother stood up and clutched both sides of the front of her pajamas protectively over her breasts. Mother knew how the game was played.

He yanked her arm away hard.

He laughed heartily as his mother's now-exposed breasts jiggled.

"I think things have gone a bit beyond modesty. Don't you think, mother?"

He grabbed a handful of his mom's right tit and squeezed. It was soft and full.

"We both know that you're a hot, slut mom. Don't we?" He heard a low moan from his mom's throat. It was working. As it always did.

"A hot slut mom," he repeated as he pinched her nipple. He felt his mother rocking her body slightly.

"And just what is a son supposed to do when he has a hot, slut mom?" He pinched her nipple harder. His mother gasped loudly.

"Tell me. What is a good son supposed to do when his mother prances around bare-assed. What is supposed to do when his knock-out gorgeous mother teases him for years?" He switched to her other breast.

"Tell me, mom. What was I supposed to do? Jack off in frustration behind closed doors? Tear myself apart with guilt about the feelings I had." He felt his cock brush against her hip.

"Ohh, Mom. Life can be complicated sometimes. A boy has to get in touch with his feelings. His feelings. His feelings for his sexy-bitch mother."

The fingers of his left hand found the elastic waist of her pajama bottom.

He let go, and stepped back from her. With her heavy boobs and wet, pouty mouth his mother was a wet-dream come alive. His wet-dream. She was the demoness that possessed his fantasies for so many lonely, frustrated teenage years. And now she was his. Forever his.

"Take the rest off, Mother." Her liquid blue eyes met his with an expression that was both vulnerable and defiant. Without taking her eyes off of his, she removed her top with deliberate slowness. She let her top fall to the floor, and stood before her son topless with a hint of mischievousness in her eyes. She arched her back slightly, causing her breasts to rise higher.

She knew the reaction she was having on him. She was daring him, egging him on, trying to gain the upper-hand in their role playing. But he wasn't going to let her win. Not yet.

"How about the rest, Mother? Or do I ....," he smiled, "...have to do it myself."

She just stood there predictably, and waited.

"Oh, Mom you make things so hard on yourself."

"I thought you were the one that was hard," she teased.

He felt a hot flush of anger for a moment but chocked it back down.

She started to turn away as if to run. When he caught the waistband of her pajama bottom above her rounded ass.

"I TOLD YOU, MOTHER. TO TAKE THEM OFF." Instead of just pulling harder at the waistband to pull the snap loose, his left hand reached for his mother's pajama-clad ass. She squirmed playfully at his touch. Instead of fondling his mother's ass through the pajama pants he wadded a handful of material in his hand, and yanked downward.

"Hey!" his mother yelled in anger as she heard the ripping sound. He was bemused to hear the same serious, scolding tone that he heard as a kid. He hadn't heard that voice in years. He grinned.

She looked behind her. He was still clutching the thin fabric of her pajama. A rip exposed a small section of his mother's bare butt.

"I told you, Mark, when we started this ..." she continued in the same scolding tone, "that I didn't want any more of my clothes wrecked. You still haven't paid me for that lingerie you promised to replace when you ..."

"Hey!" she squeaked as he violently ripped downward, exposing most of his mother's big, rounded ass. "Goddamit, Mark, I said ..."

Slap! The twin cheeks of her butt quivered as he slapped her hard with his open palm.

"Mark!?" She said in a weak voice.

"Take the rest off, Mother."

"Mark, I think this is getting out of hand. Let's not do it this way, OK?"

Her little girl voice started to get to him. Maybe this was getting out of hand. He should hold her, cradle her, and together they could make tender love together in the bedroom. She was his mother, after all.

Slap! Slap! He left an angry-red imprint on her right buttock as he slapped her with full force.

"Oooh." His mother moaned loudly. "I'll do it! I'll take it off! Just please don't hit me again. Please." She took the sides of her waistband in each hand and pulled downward.

He slapped her hands away, and ripped the rest of her pajama buttom to the floor. Obligingly, she stepped out of the remnants of the pajama. His mother was now entirely naked with her back toward him. His eyes drank in the bounteous curves of her voluptous curves. Her skin was white and smooth. Except for the red welt on her plump bottom.

She looked over her shoulder. "You scare me sometimes, Mark." Her eyes were wide. Her pouty bottom lip quivered in anticipation.

"But you love it, Mom."

She said nothing but the lost, hungry glint in her eyes told him he was right. They both loved it.

He reached around her with one hand and cradled her breasts. His mother was breathing heavily.

"You are one sexy bitch." He lightly kissed the side of her neck, letting his lips leave a moist snail trail down length of her neck.

A wave of electricity shot down his spine as he felt the tip of his cock brush against his mother's bare butt. He moved slightly until his cock rested on her crack.

He felt his mother push her hips against him.

He heard himself moan softly.

He played with nipple. "Oooh, Mom." You such a sexy ...", he pinched harder, "tease."

The head of his cock was now in the moist warmth of his mother's asshole, just resting against her puckered asshole. His mother bend forward, and opened her legs slightly.

"It's not going to be so easy, Mom." She answered pressed herself backward.

"There's time for that later."

"Mother-fucker." she grunted coarsely. She was egging him on - daring him to take her anally now. And he wanted nothing more than to fuck her here and now, long and hard.

He pulled away suddenly. No, he couldn't do this now. After a few short minutes of frenzied excitment it would be over in few hoarse grunts. Their passion, their heat would be spent and useless.

Slap!

He hit his mother's butt harder than he planned, and he felt a twinge of guilt. Her rounded buttocks quivered delightfully.

Still bend at waist, her reddened butt facing him, she turned her head around.

"That hurt!" Her eyes were moist and wide. Her tears brought out a more vibrant blue in her eyes. A corn-silk blue.

Had he gone too far? A wave of sympathy and regret went through him. He should just drop the role-playing, and take his mother in his arms. Make tender, gentle love together as they had in the early days.

"Momm ..." he heard himself mutter in a low, soft voice. She jerked slightly, but did not change her position, when he gently caressed the angry red welt on his mother's bare ass.

Life had been so much simpler between him and Mom before decided to take their lovemaking to - new and delicious extremes.

Her welt felt hot as he lovingly ran his palm across her fleshy, rounded cheek. He savored the soft, warm curves of his mother's fleshy bottom.

He met her eyes again. He had never seen them so blue. A tear made a slow moist trail down her left cheek. Her eyes told him of her hurt and sadness - sadness and resignation to life's cruel twists.

His index finger found the warm cleft of his mother's bottom. He felt her shiver as he loving traced her crack.

He heard a low, anxious moan but he couldn't tell it came from Mom or from him.

His mother bent down further until her hands met the kitchen floor. Her new position pushed her bare butt toward him, forcing the tip of his index finger further into the moistness of her ass.

He met his mother's eyes again.

"Don't ... hurt me, please, Mark?" she said in a weak voice. Her tears gave her eyes a dreamy, far-away quality.

Her mouth gave her away, though. Her full sensuous mouth was open and slack, curled at the corners in a wicked, daring smile.

Her eyes cried out for compassion, for love, but her mouth betrayed her hunger - the anxious, hunger of a rutting animal. The hunger of a bitch in heat. The hunger of a mother to break every bound of taboo. S&M had come easy for them. They were always looking for more ways to excite one another. They both discovered early on that Mom was a natural bottom. She craved the white-hot blend of pleasure and pain. And he was more happy to oblige her. More than happy. He had read about the expression "topping from the bottom" before but never understood it until his relationship with his mother blossomed into - something else. She was insatiable. She craved it. And goaded him for more and more even when he was exhausted and his cock was raw from repeatedly raping each of his mother's orifices. She demanded more and more. And the truth was that she controlled him with her demands. She would goad him and tease him until he would give in. Her behavior angered him, but that was exactly what she wanted. She knew the buttons to push. She would get him hard again when was sore and exhausted. He learned from his mother that a masochist does not necessary mean a submissive.

The next slap drove her head to the floor. She fell to her knees, but kept her angry red butt up in the air.

"Let's not do this. *please*" said pleaded. But he noticed her spread her knees further apart, exposing the darkness between her legs.

"Oh, God, Mom. What am I going to do with you?" She jumped as he gently touched her sore bottom. He giggled.

She looked at him, waiting in anticipation for the next slap. "I told you, Mom, it wouldn't be that easy."

He grabbed a handfully of her butt, and playfully squeezed.

"Get in the bedroom, Mom." He kissed the back of her neck.

"Why don't you put on that black demicup? I haven't seen you wear that in a while."

"You tore it. A month ago. Remember?"

He grinned. "Yeah. I remember. You told me to take it off as I recall."

"You were supposed to unsnap it," she smiled wickedly, "... with your teeth."

"Yeah ... well." He playfully slapped at her butt. He felt his mother's body instinctive tighten in anticipation of a much harder blow.

"In the bedroom, Mom." He kissed her cheek. "Surprise me with something. I'll be there in a minute."

His eyes followed the jiggle of his mom's butt as she awkwardly rose to her feet and headed toward the open bedroom door. When she turned her head around and caught him looking, she smiled and wiggled her ass back and forth as she giggled like a school girl.

"Bitch," he hissed.

"You know you love it, Mark," he heard her voice as she disappeared into the bedroom.

He opened a kitchen cabinet door. He peered inside for a moment, and then looked around the room.

"Mom, do you know where that riding crop is? The new one?" He could only see her shadow in the bedroom doorway. From her movements he could tell she was putting something on.

From the bedroom he heard the faint metallic clic of a clasp being fastened.

"The black one?," her voice rose in excitment, ".. No, I've haven't seen it. I keep telling you to put your toys away when your done with them."

He could hear the bedsprings creak.

"But *no*, you never listen to your mother. I told you a million ti..,"

"...I thought it was in the corner cabinet." he interrupted, "You must have moved it."

"I didn't touch your stuff. I keep telling you to put your stuff away. Maybe next time you'll be more careful."

"Nag nag nag." he muttered as he opened another cabinet.

"Look under the sink? By the KY?"

"It wouldn't be there, Mom."

He bent down and opened the cabinet door under the sink.

"Find it?" she called from the bedroom.

"Yeah..." He picked up the riding crop and a fresh tube of KY jelly.

"Told you so," she called back.

He stripped off his pajamas as he headed down the hall toward the open bedroom doorway. He cock was throbbing painfully.

He took a sharp intake of breath when he saw his mother on the bed.

"You're such ...," his voice came out hoarse and strained, "such a slut, Mom."

"And you love it." she laughed.

END

B. Traven Chiapa, Mexico July 1996

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