A Lonely Mom, a Horny Son, and Xmas

"This is your special day, Mother. You're the one who always loved Christmas," he said staring at the sexy shape of his mother while she stared at the Christmas tree. "My Christmas gift to you is to give you whatever I can do to make you happy," he said.

He hoped again that she'd want him to draw her a bath and give her a full body, naked massage and/or allow him to sleep with her in her bed. Then, when Samantha gave her son a soft, loving smile, he wished he could take her in his arms and kiss her. He wished he could have forbidden, incestuous sex with his mother.

"There's nothing that I want or need, Anthony," she said with a shrug. "Thank you anyway for being so thoughtful," she said falling silent again. Then, as if talking to herself, she softly said what she wanted and needed. "Actually, what I really want and need is sleep. I haven't been sleeping very well lately," she confessed with a yawn while making eye contact with her son. "I really could use a good night's sleep."

Not allowing her to get off the hook that easily, Anthony persevered in trying to sexually seduce his mother. Begging the question, he wondered why his mother wasn't sleeping. No doubt, with her thinking about his Dad this time of the year, the holidays always made her sad. It didn't help that she drinks more this time of year. Unless she was dead to the world drunk, alcohol always ruined her sleep.

He wondered if there was anything that he could do to help her to sleep. Ready to give her his solution, he was ready to volunteer to sleep with her. He wished she'd invite him to sleep with her. Only, just as he knew his mother would never allow him to photograph her without her clothes, run her a bath, or give her a naked, full body massage, he knew she'd never allow him to sleep with her in her bed either.

"I know," he said suggesting it anyway and giving her a big smile while imagining her naked. "What if I drew you a bath, a bubble bath, and gave you a massage after your bath," he said, a naked massage, he wanted to say but didn't. "After the wine that you just had, surely a warm bath and a nice massage would help you to sleep."

He imagined her agreeing to him running her a bubble bath. He imagined pulling up a stool to keep her company and talk to her as she bathed. He imagined washing her back while watching all of those big bubbles popping and bursting to show him more of her big, naked breasts, glimpses of her areolas, and peeks of her erect nipples. Then, after her bath, he imagined her agreeing to having him give her a full body, naked massage in the way that Bryan Brown in Full Body Massage gave Mimi Rogers a full body, naked massage.

'In the way that I saw Mimi Rogers naked in that movie, I'd love to see my mother naked,' he thought. 'In the way that I saw Mimi Roger's naked tits, I'd love to see my mother's tits. In the way that I saw Mimi Roger's naked ass and pussy, I'd love to see my mother's naked ass and pussy.'

He imagined his mother lying face down on her stomach with only a small facecloth covering her shapely, naked ass. He imagined his mother turning to lay on her back while a small facecloth covered her blonde, trimmed pussy and a small hand towel covered her naked breasts. While massaging his naked mother, he imagined his mother allowing him to touch her, feel her, and fondle her everywhere a son should never touch, feel, and fondle his naked mother. Surely, if she agreed to a bubble bath and a naked massage, this Christmas gift would be more for him than for her.

As if she was thinking about it, she looked at him and smiled while leaning forward on the sofa. Every time she leaned forward, she not only parted her knees and flashed him an even better view of her white panties again but also, she flashed him her long line of sexy cleavage and her low-cut brassiere. As much as he loved seeing and ogling his mother's panties, he loved seeing and ogling his mother's cleavage and her exposed brassiere.

As if he was her upstairs butler, he imagined his mother allowing him to run her a bath. He imagined undressing her for her bath. He imagined his mother allowing him to strip her naked while allowing him to touch her, feel her, fondle her, caress her, and grope her where a son should never be allowed to touch, feel, fondle, caress, and grope his mother. He imagined helping her out of her bath and drying her everywhere with a small, thin hand towel that allowed him to not only see everything but also to feel her ass, feel her big tits, finger her nipples, and finger her pussy.

"There's nothing you can do for me that you haven't done already, Anthony," she said again. "You're a good son. Thank you for suggesting a bubble bath and a massage. A tempting offer but no. I'm sorry for being a party pooper. I'll feel better in the morning," she said with a shrug and a sad look of dejection. "It's just that," she said pausing while leaning back in the soft comfort of the couch.

A good son? If only she knew the sexual thoughts he had over imagining her naked while having sex with her naked body, what would she think of him then? What kind of son would she call him then, if she knew that he wanted to have incestuous sex with her? What would she think of him if she knew that he wanted to fuck her? What would she think of him if she knew that he wanted her to blow him and that he wanted to cum in her mouth and watch her swallow his cum?

With her not having finished her thought, he wondered what she was going to say. Perhaps, she was ready to change her mind about him drawing her a bath. He'd love nothing more than to sit with his mother while she was taking a bubble bath. Perhaps, she was ready to change her mind about him giving her a full body, naked massage. He'd love nothing more than to massage his mother's shoulders, back, ass, and legs. He'd love nothing more than to give his mother a massage with a happy ending.

"What Mother? What were you going to say? You started to say something," he said impatiently. "It's just that...what Mother? You didn't finish your thought. Tell me," he said.

Anthony looked at his mother as if she was the only woman in the world.

"I know it sounds silly and I can't believe I'm telling you this but you're old enough to know such things," she said pausing again. "What I miss most about your father is sleeping with him," she said biting her lip while looking up at her son. "Even though he cheated on me, lied to me, deceived me, and drank to an excess, when in bed with me, he made me feel safe. He comforted me when sleeping with me and while holding me, hugging me, cuddling me, and spooning me."

'Was she hinting that she wanted me to sleep with her,' wondered Anthony. 'He'd love to hold her, hug her, cuddle her, and spoon his mother, especially if she was wearing one of her short, sheer and sexy, low-cut nightgowns,' he thought. 'Only, turning something so innocent into something sexual, just as there was no way that he could help from touching her, feeling her, and groping her, there was no way that he could stop himself from having an erection. There was no way that he could innocently sleep with her without touching her, feeling her, and groping her.'

Nonetheless, Anthony thought about suggesting the forbidden. As if he was her husband instead of her son, he wondered if she'd agree to allow him to sleep with her. He imagined sleeping his mother. He imagined holding her, hugging her, and cuddling her while spooning her. Only, if he slept with her while spooning her, he couldn't help himself from pressing his erect cock up against her firm ass. If she invited him to sleep with her, he couldn't help himself from feeling her ass, cupping her breasts, feeling her breasts, and fingering her nipples through her nightgown while she slept.

"I can understand that," said Anthony.

Hoping beyond hope, he wondered if his mother was going to ask him to sleep with her. Then, as if she was sexually teasing him and incestuously enticing him, she revealed some of the erotic details of his father sleeping with his mother. As if she was giving him sexual pillow talk, she confessed what she did with his father that he imagined doing with his mother whenever he masturbated himself while imagining his mother naked and having sex with her.

"Feeling his hands on me, holding me, touching me, caressing me, and fondling me was comforting. Now, tossing and turning, while continually waking up during the night, I haven't had a good night's sleep since he left me four, long, years ago," she said not making eye contact with her son. "I'm so lonely, Anthony. I'm so sad," she said while finally making eye contact with him before falling silent again.

He wondered if lonely was his mother's code word for horny and sad was her code word for being sexually frustrated. He wondered if her look was just a look or an invitation. He wondered if his mother wanted him to sleep with her. He wondered if his mother wanted him to hold her, hug her, and cuddle her while spooning her. He wondered if she wanted him to touch her, feel her, and fondle her. He wondered if him sleeping with his mother in her bed was her subtle invitation for them to have incestuous sex.

# # #

Perhaps, wishful thinking on his part and just a figment of his incestuous imagination, because of all the up-skirt and down-blouse flashes he had recently seen of her, he wondered if his mother was deliberately flashing him. He wondered if she was incestuously enticing him and erotically seducing him in the way that he'd love to sexually seduce her. Now, something as incestuously forbidden, he wondered if his mother was hinting that she'd want him to sleep with her.

'How hot would that be to sleep in the same bed with my mother,' he thought? 'I'd love to sleep in the same bed with my Mom.'

Not even having to think about it and with her not having to twist his arm, if even only to just sleep, he'd love to sleep in the same bed with his mother. Unable to remove the image of sleeping with her from his horny mind, as if he wasn't already sexually excited enough before from seeing his mother's panties, cleavage, and bra, he was even more sexually excited now. Even if they slept in their clothes, he'd love to sleep in the same bed with his mother.

Just thinking about lying next to her and spooning her, he was becoming sexually excited. He was getting an erection. After she fell asleep, he imagined touching her, feeling her, and fondling her through her nightgown. He imagined sleeping with his MILF of a mother and cupping her naked breast and nightgown clad ass as she slept. He imagined lifting the back of her nightgown and feeling her naked ass before fingering her naked pussy. He imagined rubbing his naked, erect cock against his mother's naked ass and sliding his prick along her pussy slit from behind.

He took a big gulp of his wine to summon the courage of what he was going to suggest next. Having nothing to lose, she could only say no, or possibly, she'd say yes. Whichever her answer, it would be telling. Either she'd allow him to sleep with her or she wouldn't. Either she sexually wanted him as much as he sexually wanted her or she didn't. Hopefully, she was just as lonely as he was horny.

"I can sleep with you, Mom," he said blurting it out as if someone else had said the words.

The silence while waiting for her to answer was unbearable. Not sure if she heard him, he was ready to repeat what he just said again. Yet, not wanting to push his luck by seeming too eager and overly, sexually excited, he bit his tongue while waiting for her to respond. Hopefully, she'd agree to him sleeping with her.

Hoping she'd say yes, he imagined sleeping in the same bed with his mother. He'd wear his pajama bottoms without wearing underneath. Hoping his erect cock would pop out of his pee hole during the night, he'd love to press his naked prick against his mother's nightgown clad ass. Then, once she was asleep, he'd lift her nightgown and press his naked prick against her naked ass. He imagined holding her, hugging her, cuddling her, and spooning her while humping her and sexually molesting her in her sleep.

When his words finally penetrated her alcohol pickled brain, she looked at him as if she had just heard what he volunteered to do for her, albeit more for him. Yet, more than that, crossing his fingers while saying a silent prayer that she'd say yes, she looked at him as if she was considering his offer. As if on cue, she slowly and seductively uncrossed her long, shapely legs while turning more to him before parting her knees enough for him to see all that he wanted to see of his mother's panty clad pussy.

'I love seeing my mother's panties,' he thought while trying not to allow her to catch him staring.

His mother flashed him her panties, yet, again. He couldn't believe his mother flashed him her panties, yet, again. Something he never tired of seeing, he loved seeing her panties. She had such beautiful thighs and such a lovely pussy mound.

Something, as her son, he was forbidden to see. He wondered if she knew she was flashing him her panties. He wondered if she'd be embarrassed and/or ashamed if she knew she was unintentionally flashing him her panties. Then, something so very sexually exciting, he wondered if she was deliberately flashing him her panties.

'How hot would that be if my mother was deliberately flashing me her panties,' he thought? 'How hot would that be if my mother wanted me to see her panties as much as I want to see her panties.'

If she was deliberately flashing him her panties, he wondered if she was sexually teasing him. He wondered if she was incestuously enticing him by allowing him to see her panty clad cunt, his mother's cunt. If she was deliberately flashing him her panties, he wondered if she'd be sexually aroused and/or incestuously excited that he could see her panties.

# # #

He wished he could finger his mother's pussy through her panties. He wished he could lick her pussy through her panties. He wished he could remove her panties and eat her naked cunt before making love to her beautiful pussy and before fucking her hard and fast enough to give her sexual orgasms not only with his fingers and his tongue but also with his cock.

'I'd love to hear my mother cum. I'd love to watch her having a sexual orgasm. I love to know that I was able to give her as much sexual pleasure as she had given me,' he thought.

She looked at him as if she had just heard what he offered to do.

"Sleep with me?" Obviously, taken aback, she looked at him as if he had just splashed cold water in her face. "Really," she asked giving him a loving, albeit sexy smile? "You'd sleep with me?"

Then, she innocently looked at him as if she didn't know his meaning. She looked at him as if he was joking. She looked at him as if he was crazy or mad with sexual lust. If he was mad with sexual lust for his mother, unbeknownst to him, taking two consensual adults to have an incestuous affair, she was mad with incestuous desire for her son. If only he knew that she sexually wanted him as much as he incestuously wanted her.

"Yes, Mother," he said. "I can sleep with you, if you want."

As if she was a debutante at her first ball, she laughed a little, nervous laugh. Acting coy, she played down her good looks and sexy body. She needn't have asked the question when she already knew the answer.

"Now why would you want to sleep with your old mother?"

Unable to conceal what she was thinking behind her sexy smile and naughty look, she looked at him with sexual arousal in the way that he looked at her with incestuous lust. As if he was her suitor, she looked at him in the way that he had never seen his mother look at him before. She looked at him in the way that he always looked at her and was looking at her now. She looked at him as if she was imagining him sleeping with her in the way that he had already imagined sleeping with her dozens of times before while masturbating.

# # #

"I don't mean having sex with you, Mom. I mean, so that you can get a good night's sleep, just lying beside you as if we were resting instead of sleeping," he said explaining his motives. "We could even sleep in our clothes, if that would make you feel more comfortable," he said waiting for her to answer while hoping she'd say yes.

She gave him an understanding smile. The last thing he wanted was to sleep with his mother in their clothes. The last thing he wanted was to sleep with his mother without having sex with her. He'd much rather she'd wear one of her sexy, short, and sheer, low-cut nightgowns while he wore his pajama bottoms without wearing underwear. He'd much rather she'd flash him most of her naked tits, her naked ass, and the back of her naked pussy, while he flashed her his naked prick.

"I know what you meant," she said and looking as if she was disappointed that he wasn't propositioning her for sex.

Now, based on her look of disappointment, he wondered if he should have propositioned his mother for sex. Why not? What did he have to lose? Either she'd say yes or she'd say no. Yet, making her fear him, she may ask him to leave her house. Besides, one step at a time, he needed to be granted permission to sleep in her bed before propositioning her for sex.

Nonetheless, even though they were mother and son, with her as lonely as he was horny, they were consenting adults with sexual wants, emotional needs, and physical desires. His perfect woman, there was no other woman that he'd rather have sex with than with her. Besides, whatever sexually happened between the both of them, no one would know what went on behind her closed bedroom door. None of anyone's business, no one would know that he had sex with his mother and she had sex with her son.

Not even having to think about it, he'd definitely do her. She was so beautiful. She was so sexy. She had such an incredibly shapely body. He'd definitely have sex with his mother if she asked him to give her sex.

He'd finger her, lick her, make love to her, and fuck her. Hoping she'd return the favor, he'd love her to stroke him, suck him, make love to him, and fuck him. Not even having to ponder the thought, he'd definitely have sex with her, if she allowed him to have sex with her. Giving him the eye, a come-hither look that she had never given him before, she looked at him as if she was a woman that he had just asked home. Not waiting for her to answer his question, he asked his question again.

"Seriously, Mom, what if I slept with you? That might help you to sleep," he said as if he was thinking more about her having a good night's sleep than he was thinking about his incestuous, sexual desires and him having sex with his mother. "You could finally get a good night's sleep."

She smiled while laughing with glee.

"I don't know about my son sleeping in the same bed with his mother," she said with a nervous, little laugh. "My reputation in the community would be ruined if anyone was to discover us sleeping together," she said rolling her eyes and sighing. "Not that I care what people think but I wouldn't want to ruin your chances of you finding the love of your life because of people thinking that you had sex with your mother."

Sex with his mother, she said the words. Obviously on the same, sexual page, she was thinking what he was thinking. Sex with his mother, forget about just sleeping with her, he'd give anything to have sex with her. Now reenergized by her encouragement, as if he was speaking to his mother in his sexual fantasy while masturbating himself, he persevered.

"I could hold you, hug you, cuddle you, and spoon you in the way that Dad used to do," he said as if he was offering her a self-less act of love instead of a perverted act of incestuous lust. "I'd do anything for you to finally get a good night's sleep, Mom," he said nodding his head as if he needed that extra bit of head movement to make his mother believe his sincerity and not suspect his perversity.