Orgasmic Bliss and Incest

I meet a lot of different people as I travel, and I've found that everyone has a story. I'm not speaking about the every-day stories, on how they were late to work because of traffic. I'm speaking about stories that involve their sex life.

Deep down, people want to share what they have kept secret or perhaps validate what they did or are doing sexually. The challenge in getting them to talk is getting them to feel that I would accept them, no matter what they told me. What follows is one of those stories.

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I love it when people ask me where I'm from. My response is always given in a hushed voice; "East Boston. I know it's not the Back Bay, but it's better than Chelsea."

Most people aren't content with that answer and will say; "No, no: before that."

My innocent reply is; "Oh: where I was born."

I can usually see great expectations in their eyes, at least until I answer; "Lexington."

I know it's not fair of me to play them along, after-all, my features are mostly oriental, but it would be boring as all hell to explain; "My Mother was a mix of Thai and French, my Father was a mix of Italian and English."

I guess that makes me a plain old American and the reason why I have the hair, skin tone, eyes, mouth and chin of a Thai woman. The English side gave me a tall lanky body and slender nose, from the Italian side I got a great pair of tits, legs, and a taste for good wine, and from the French side I got a French woman's ass and the ability to be rude.

None of the above explains why I am multi-orgasmic. I can cum just by walking and concentrating on the feel of my silk undies sliding over my skin.

My poor dead husband could even get me to cum two or three times when he'd fuck me, that cheating, stupid, no-good, asshole, of a son of a bitch, that he was.

Sorry, that's my French side coming out. At least he left us, me and our son, a sizeable insurance policy.

(Ok, real quick; the story behind his death. He and a married bimbo from Revere were driving back on 95 from one of their fuck fests up in Kittery. Numb-nuts didn't see a stopped tractor trailer and plowed into the back of it. The bimbo never saw it coming. A cop told me they had a hard time getting them out. Her head was pinned by the steering wheel with his prick in her mouth. The impact made her bite it off. The undertaker asked if I wanted it, "Put Back". I told him to just throw it away. He wasn't likely to need it where he was going.

I love sex, and for me, being able to cum dozens of times before the battery in my pocket rocket even begins to lose power, is a good thing.

Mind you, I'm not obsessed with sex and I don't walk around with my face being contorted in orgasmic bliss. There are degrees of intensity to my orgasms and I need a certain amount of mind play to get me horny.

Most men are intimidated by my looks and don't ask me out. Those that do, don't automatically get to jump my bones. The select few that I have fucked are thrilled at their male prowess and ability to get me to cum so many times.

The problem hits them once they have cum and I'm just beginning to feel the really good, mind blowing ones that I need so I can come back to earth and feel totally satisfied.

It is, primarily, for this reason that I seldom date. My sexual release used to come at my own hands, without ever hearing the complaint, "aren't you done yet".

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It had been almost two years since I'd felt the fullness of a man's cock, since I inhaled the smell that only a man and a woman can produce while in the throes of passion and lust. I was soon to be reminded of how love can bring one to new heights.

Calvin or as he prefers, Cal, was a month away from his eighteenth birthday, when his father died. He was old enough to know what had been going on, and I will never forget his words to me after the funeral.

He took my hand, and looking into my eyes said; "I promise; I will be the man that he couldn't be."

At the time I had no idea that he was being literal.

Cal seemed to be better than his word. He had failed his freshman year of high-school, but now as a senior he was pulling all A's. Because of his previous grade average he couldn't get into one of the better schools so he attended Bunker Hill Community College. The following year he was accepted at Boston University.

As I said previously, I'm a masturbator. I didn't say I was a quiet masturbator. It was a few months after the funeral and I was in the shower of the master bedroom. My hands were soapy and I was in the process of pushing my glass dildo into my ass when my hand slipped and the dildo fell to the shower floor with a clatter, not to mention a loud, frustrated expression from me.

Cal heard the noise, and my yell. He rushed into my bathroom just in time to see me bent over, my tits were hanging down, I had one hand pulling a cheek wide while the other had just shoved the head of my red glass dildo into my ass and I was moaning.

"Oh fuck that feels..." I opened my eyes to see a pair of white sneakers and blue jean legs.

I stood in a panic and turned toward him as I started to yell; "Get out." multiple times.

Cal stood there, frozen in place, his eyes wide as they took in every inch of his naked Mother.

My nipples were now standing out high, hard and proud. As I moved my arm to point at the door and scream, "Out" yet again.

My tits gave a little bounce, my butt cheeks relaxed and the dildo was pushed out of my ass hitting the floor with another loud clatter.

That noise brought reality back to Cal. He fled the room, pulling the bedroom door shut with a louder than necessary bang.

From that day on, over the next year, he put out an effort to catch me fucking myself. Despite my best efforts to thwart his attempts, on occasion he would succeed in getting glimpses of my body in various stages of nakedness. The last time he caught me was the end-all.

I was lying in bed with my favorite red glass dildo nestled deep in my ass; two fingers were pumping in and out of me while I held the Hitachi Magic Wand to my clit. I was in high gear.

My climaxes were getting further apart and stronger. I knew this next one would be the toe curler.

I turned the Magic Wand on Hi, my right foot moved up so the heal could push against the dildo and I used the wet fingers from my cunt to pinch and pull on my nipples.

Fuck the orgasm was strong. I was arched with only my head and feet touching the bed. My shoulders, hips and ass were high off the bed and I could feel the muscles from both my cunt and my ass trying to work the dildo out of me.

I kept the vibrator pushed hard against my clit as I forced my ass to angle down, pushing it against the bed. The dildo rammed deep into my ass, forcing the constricting muscles to accept it. The pain and fire sent another racking spasm thru my body and I collapsed, totally spent.

I was softly stroking my pussy when I sensed something. I opened my eyes and not three feet from me was my son. (For the sake of propriety, if there is any where incest is involved, he was over eighteen when this happened.)

I threw a barrage of angry questions at him, "How long have you been there. Why are you here? What did you see?"

Wow, "what did you see", that was a stupid one. My cunt was in the air, throwing out pussy juice and my tits were bouncing like someone was playing hand-ball with them and I wanted to know what he saw.

His eyes kept darting back and forth between my cunt and tits as he spoke; "I heard you making weird noises and came in to see if you were OK."

I instinctively glanced at his crotch and my eyes widened when I saw a large wet spot sitting on a larger bulge in the front of his shorts. "Get out, Get out now." I yelled.

"Sorry Mom," was all he said as he turned and left.

Ok, I'm a crappy Mom. I should have handled that better, but my son just saw me; no, not just saw me, he was intently watching me cum wildly. Shit; do you know the kind of self control that it takes to cum like that and not be screaming at the top of your lungs.

My anger increased, at least momentarily. I just came down from a super orgasm that should have kept my horny meter down for at least two or three days.

Now I was beginning to feel like a god dammed pervert. The thought of my son watching me made my tits harden and I could feel a tingling inside me.

"Oh fuck', my mind sang out as one small climax rolled over me.

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That evening we were sitting at the kitchen table, eating dinner. (Even though it's only the two of us, I insist that we eat a family style dinner, every day; no excuses. I guess that's the Italian in me.)

I don't know if he planned the moment for affect, but I had my wine glass to my lips and was just beginning a sip when he blurted out; "You like to cum a lot, don't you Mom."

The force of me choking on my wine caused the remaining contents of the glass to slosh back on my silk blouse.

(Yes, I have a fetish for silk, I don't wear a bra because I like the soothing feel against my skin, but if I get into all my fetishes, you'd need to spend another day.)

It was odd, the first thought I had after hearing my son ask me if I liked to cum, and spilling my wine was, "Crap; red wine on my pale blue silk blouse, that'll stain."

Cal was instantly at my side, blotting the wine off my blouse. The momentary thought of how nice it was of him to help was replaced when I felt his hard-on pressing against my arm. The gentle blotting now felt like I was being felt-up.

I pushed back from the table and away from the hands that had made my nipples hard, and were beginning to put that little tingle into my cunt. I went into the downstairs bathroom closed the door, removed my blouse and began to flush the wine soaked area with cold water.

Cal's worried voice came in thru the door; "You OK Mom?"

Impatiently I answered; "I'm fine, just run up and get me a new blouse and one of my wide plastic hangers."

I heard him hurrying up the stairs and was relieved. I don't do well with confrontations or with questions from my son about my masturbating activities. I had hopes that the wine spilling was to be a blessing in disguise and Cal's question would be forgotten.

"Mom.", his voice interrupted my thoughts; "I have your blouse and hanger."

I opened the door just enough so he could pass them to me, and enough for him to angle his head and get an eye full of my tits.

I grabbed the blouse and hanger and he held on to them for a few seconds longer than he should have, so I yanked them from his grasp, pulled the door closed and locked it.

I stood there looking at one of my sheer silk blouses. No doubt the little shit knew exactly what he was doing.

I was about to get pissed when he spoke up again; "Mom, we really need to talk. I have questions, your birthday, and I;" he hesitated for a moment, "I need to tell you."

I cut him short; "No. Not now. In a couple of days, but not tonight."

My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and images. Would I let my son see more of my body, he obviously wanted to and I was reaching orgasms of strength I hadn't experienced until I began thinking that Cal was spying on me. I know that was a terrible thing to think, but that realization made me week kneed as two quick waves of climax coursed thru my cunt and I knew that I was going to have to change my panties.

I hung my wet blouse and slipped into the see-thru dry one. I draped a towel over my shoulders and made sure that it covered my tits. When I walked back into the kitchen, Cal was gone.

I started to berate myself for being a worse Mother than I previously thought I was. My son wanted to talk about sex and I was the one who told him, repeatedly, that he could tell me anything.

It's just that when I said all that, I didn't think it would involve me so directly. Now my worst thoughts were that I may have scarred my son for life by refusing to talk to him.

I forced myself to go up-stairs and confront the situation, no matter where it led.

The door to Cal's room was usually open, but I found the door partially closed. Without thinking, I opened the door; as I walked in, my mouth and eyes opened wide in shocked disbelief.

Cal was standing in front of his computer monitor, his prick in his hand. I watched as he continued to slowly work it. A small bead of pre-cum had just bubbled up on his last stroke, and I found myself momentarily spellbound.

His prick was far from the biggest that I had ever seen, but it was beautiful, with a large head and a pronounced curve. My tongue was just touching my upper lip when I notice that I was on the computer screen that my son was jerking-off in front of.

I was kneeling on my bed, facing my wall mirror. (Yes, that's another fetish.) I had my blue bunny dildo, the one where the ears vibrate against my clit. I suddenly remembered doing exactly what I was watching, two nights ago.

"Mom."; he said calmly as he turned toward me.

He was still slowly stroking his prick and several more beads of clear cum had appeared and were sliding down the back side of the wide head toward his hand.

I had to close my eyes and shake my head to clear my vision and then I snapped;

"What in the hell is this." I said as I pointed to the monitor; "And put that away."

I didn't have to spell it out for him, and he hurriedly tried to shove his erect cock back into his shorts.

"Mom, look; I aah, just. I need to talk to you and you won't talk or even try and listen. I've tried a dozen times to get your help and you just don't care."

The anger I felt only moments ago disappeared as the words he spoke stung my heart.

It took a lot of effort, but I calmed myself sufficiently to speak. I almost couldn't believe the cool and collected way I spoke; "Very well Cal. When you're done, I'll be sitting in the kitchen and we will have our talk. I promise you; I will honestly answer any of your questions and will listen to you completely, but you have to understand, I have some questions of my own."

"You won't be angry with me for what I've done." He said in a pleading voice.

"I didn't say how I'd react. You have some tall explaining to do, but I promise you, I will listen. Remember, you're a man now, don't be afraid to take responsibility for your actions."

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"I can't cum."

Shit, he knew how to get my attention. "What do you mean you can't cum?" My voice was on the edge of hysteria; "I just saw you with a hard-on. It sure looked like you were ready to cum."

"Mom, are you going to listen to me or not."

That shut me up; "Sorry, but you just don't tell you mother that you can't cum without expecting a reaction, especially this mother."

"Look Mom, I've been with a few girls. I get them to cum, but by the time I feel; do you mind if I say the word balls." He asked questioningly.

"Look, you can use any words you want, fuck, cunt, balls, I don't care. As far as I'm concerned a prick is a prick no matter what you call it."

"Ok, thanks Mom. Anyway, by the time I even begin to feel a tightening in my balls, they are complaining that they are sore and don't want to fuck any more or ever again."

My mind was now off in filth-land, thinking of a prick that could fuck me long enough to get my pussy tender. Now there's a dream come true.

"Mom." He quarried; "Are you listening."

"Yes", I said with perhaps too much enthusiasm. "You have my complete attention."

"Well, the day that I came to your room and saw you in the shower, with that dildo sticking out of your." He paused, not sure if he should continue.

I helped him out with the word. "Ass: I remember what happened; the dildo was sticking out of my ass. So, go on."

"Well, I didn't really leave. I stayed and watched you," There was a slight pause before he continued. "fuck yourself. You kept at it hard for over twenty minutes and I saw you cum and cum again without even a pause, until you seemed to go thru a wild contortion of your body and then collapsed to the floor. I was a little worried as I watched, but I couldn't move because I was cumming."

He paused and studied my face for reaction.

There was no reaction from me; at least I hoped there was no outward tell on my face. As for my insides, I wasn't going to be able to stand until he left the room. I knew that I had just soaked the back of my dress and quite likely the chair cushion as well.

"Mom, I had never cum so much. I had to stuff your panties into my mouth to keep from screaming, the climax was so strong. I shot cum so far out that I hit the wall and after I had to take my shirt off to clean up all the mess. That's when I knew that there wasn't anything wrong with me."

"Mom," he hung his head slightly, "I wanted to cum like that again. I tried watching hours of porn. It would get me aroused, but only on a few occasions would I cum and never like I did that day with you."

His last words tore thru me and I squeezed my legs together, producing an orgasm that I couldn't hide.

Cal didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't say anything about it as he continued.

"Mom, that's why I had to put a video feed in your bedroom, you're the only woman that can make me cum. That's what you saw on my computer. I love to watch you."

His words were coming faster now, as if he had to get them out quickly or they would stay locked in him forever.

"I need you Mom, without you I'd never cum again. That's why I got you a birthday gift; I just didn't know how you'd take it. Especially when I want to ask if I can watch you use it. I mean, live, not on video. I mean in person, close." He was babbling now.

"Whoa, slow down, you lost me right after birthday gift."

"Ok, I got you a birthday gift, that's why I asked you if you liked to cum a lot. I figured that it would be a perfect gift. I want to watch you use it, so that it will help me cum too."

"Hold on," I interrupted him and I was getting a little upset at what I thought he was trying to tell me. "You're telling me that you bought me a gift for my birthday, that isn't till next month, and that this gift is going to make both of us cum together." I shook my head, "I don't think so."

"No, no. I'm not explaining myself."

"I hope not." I broke in.

"Wait, I'll get it and be right back."

Before I could blink he dashed for the stairs and in less than three minutes returned with a large three foot square box.

Putting it on the floor beside me, he bent over and said, "Early Happy Birthday Mom, I love you."

He put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me into him for a lingering kiss on the lips. The twinge in my cunt and a full body shudder almost had me parting my lips.

"Shit," my mind screamed out; "what are you doing."

I pushed away from the kiss and got no unusual reaction from Cal, as if that kiss was perfectly natural.

"Go ahead, open it." He said excitedly, as he passed me a knife to cut thru the packing tape.

I found that I was excited too. Weather it was from the birthday gift, the kiss that I just got or because my pussy hadn't stop dripping since our talk first began, I wasn't sure.

As soon as the box was open, I knew what it was. "Cal this is just what I've always wanted. I figured that I could never afford one. How did you ever get the money, they were twelve hundred dollars back when I first saw one."

Cal lifted the Sybian out of the box for me and put it on the empty chair.

"I saved it. I don't just wash the cars down at Mario's, I've sold a few and he's paid me for each sale. My last one he gave me six hundred cash and that put me over what I needed."

I was so excited over the gift that I stood and hugged him tight. I felt him put his hand on my ass and figured that for a gift like this, I'd let him have a quick feel.

I was surprised when he pulled away.