Amazon MILF's Fun with The Son

Not sure it was the culprit, but sometime around early 2020, coinciding with the arrival of COVID-19, I started to develop a strange and exotic new fetish: an attraction to the idea of chicks with dicks (or Futanari). It was a bit weird, seeing as how I've gone over 60 years with the very idea making me cringe, but... things don't stay the same; people change, people evolve, right?

Anyway, this story does NOT have Futanari in it. What it does have is mother-son incest, with the mom being very muscular; it was written about 4 years ago (and published elsewhere) and was later the basis for my Of Mothers and Mushrooms story, which was my first Futa tale.

So, things change - but maybe not as much as we think?

Anyway: all characters are at least 18 years old. None smoke cigarettes, abuse animals, burn books or vote for seditious traitors.

CHAPTER ONE

In which Neal has a rude shock. And then a pleasant surprise.

So, about my mom. She was a very beautiful woman, and at 6'1" she was also pretty tall (she played hoops in college), and had large, amazing tits (which she says destroyed her hoops career... yeah, right. Whatever. Actually, they were ginormous - she must have been quite the sight, running up and down the court...).

The reason I'm bringing it up? Well...

I'll be going to Duke in the fall, and I needed some papers from my dad's fraternity days, so I was rummaging through stuff in the garage when I came upon this small picture album. It had pictures of my parents from their early days; it pissed me off, seeing my dad with her, what with the way he would later treat her, but I couldn't put it down. It was a revelation - even dressed in baggy, mid-90's grunge-chic, looking like she hadn't washed her hair in ages, my mom was just ridiculously hot.

And then I came upon this one particular pic...

It was just my mom, standing on a beach, with the ocean behind her, striking a Sheena-The-Jungle-Girl pose - legs akimbo, hands on her hips, smiling at the camera. She was wearing a yellow, teeny-tiny bikini - way too small for her figure, which was just voluptuous. Her breasts were almost spilling out of her tiny bra, the nipples clearly visible through the Lycra. She was beautifully tanned, her blonde hair flowing in the wind, her smile dazzling... man, I get hard now, just thinking about it...

I definitely got hard at the moment, too. And, later, in my room, I jerked off, holding that picture, eating the stunning image of my mom with my eyes. Yeah, something clicked, a taboo was blown up and thrown out of the window: I jerked off, thinking about my mom.

My mom...

When I was a kid she was full of life, always laughing or smiling - which changed as I grew up; I think it was things not working out with my dad, who could be quite a prick (thinking about it now, I believe he had a bit of an inferiority complex about his 5'7". I wasn't much taller, and I was always worried that I'll grow up to be like him...). I watched my mom growing more quiet, smiling a lot less, and generally looking kinda depressed. She quit her job when I was 11 - my dad was doing very well, and I think he convinced her she could start having fun instead of working at the hospital. It didn't do her any good - she stopped taking care of herself, put on a lot of weight, spent most of her time on the sofa watching TV. So, not good. And when I was 14, my father left home; they got a divorce soon after, and he moved to California with his 24-year-old secretary.

I loved my mom; when my dad asked me if I wanted to move in with him I didn't think twice before saying No. I would have loved to leave fucking Tar Hill State and move to the golden state, but I didn't want to leave my mom. Even as a super-angsty, self-absorbed teenager I could tell that she was in a bad way.

The first few months after the divorce were pretty bleak - more of the same, her sitting on the sofa all day, watching Ellen and eating Pringles, barely talking to me when I was home. But then, something happened. Something changed. The snacks disappeared from the cupboard, ordering pizza became a once a-month thing, she was putting work into making dinner, making it - oh, the horror! - healthy. She started going out on long walks, and pretty soon she was jogging. About two and a half years ago she joined a gym, saying she wanted to get some weight training into her weekly routine - but pretty soon she started going twice a week, then 3 times - and then 6 days a week... it all had an amazing effect on her; as she was starting to get more fit, her mood was also changing.

She was smiling again - a lot - and she even started to get back in touch with her friends in town, most of whom had all but given up on her. I heard her talking with men on the phone, flirting, though - far as I knew - she wasn't seeing anyone. Maybe she needed more time? Not that I was complaining. We were spending more time together, watching TV, talking, even going to the movies together from time to time. She talked about going back to work, but it seemed like her daily sessions at the gym were now filling her days. She was only getting more intense about it, and it was starting to show. she was getting bigger - like, bodybuilder-bigger! - and I was noticing it more and more, thinking about her body - like, a lot...

Other people were noticing, too. It was my senior year, graduation just around the corner, and we were laying around one day after school, arguing about which college has the hottest girls. Out of the blue - which was the way things usually started where he was concerned - my buddy Adam started talking about my mom.

"Forget those girls - have you seen Dean's mom? Man, she's, like, crazy hot! I get hard just thinking about her..."

Jeff said she was "too buff", but the other guys hissed him quite. It seemed like, even though they haven't seen her since last summer, my mother was still on all their minds... I was getting quite upset. Adam Had told me before how hot he thought my mom was, but that was between the two of us, not with all those morons present...

"Whatthe hell, guys? That's my mom you're talking about!"

Adam laughed. "Oh, yeah - mom I'd like to fuck!"

The guys sniggered. I got up, now quite angry. "How would you like it if I talked like that about your mother?!"

Someone said: "Yeah, good luck jacking off thinking about his mom!" and everybody laughed, thinking about Adam's maternal, slightly overweight, cheerful mom. Adam was shouting after me as I left: "Come on, dude, you know it's true!" but I was too upset to answer.

I was very self-conscious when I got home that evening. As luck would have it, it was one of the first really hot days of spring, and my mom was wearing a tank top that showed off her shoulders and arms, which I couldn't help but notice were much larger than last summer, with tiny veins all over her arms, and a thick large vein running down her very beefy biceps. Her breasts, which have always been very large, seemed a bit smaller, but were still large and proud, with her nipples pushing against the thin fabric. I had to actually stop myself from staring at them all through dinner...

After dinner we sat down in the living room to watch Jeopardy, something that has become a daily ritual over the last 3 years. I didn't talk much, as I was still thinking about that incident at school. I was angry at Adam - he was my friend, he shouldn't have been talking like that! - but I was slowly realizing that my reaction was in part because I agreed with him...

Mom noticed my mood. "What's up, kiddo? You seem rather pensive today."jk

I was caught off guard. I could usually talk with my mom about anything, but this was just too embarrassing. "It's... nothing, ma. Just something I heard at school today." "Yeah? What did you hear?"

I was getting really uncomfortable, feeling blood rushing to my head. "It's nothing, ma, really! Just... guys talking."

Mom looked at me for a minute, and then got up and moved over, sitting next to me on the sofa. She was wearing her old jeans shorts, which seemed to be a lot smaller and tighter than they used to be, showing off a pair of very muscular thighs. She put a heavy arm on my shoulder, tousling my hair.

"Come on, Dean - spill."

Her presence was overwhelming, her smell - the smell of the soap she's been using for years - suddenly feeling very exotic and exciting...

I told her about what the guys were saying earlier today, on the field. She seemed to find it funny. She smiled, the tiny wrinkles around her green-gray eyes making her more beautiful than ever, and said:"that Adam Manning is quite the horny bastard, isn't he?" Then she grew serious. Looking directly into my eyes, she asked:

"And what do you think?"

At first I didn't understand what she was saying. 'I... what?!" There was now a look in her eyes that was new to me. I was growing a little nervous, as she held my gaze and asked again: "Do you agree with your friends? Do you think I'm sexy?"

I was nonplussed, trying furiously to think about an answer that would defuse the suddenly very tense moment. "I... well, of course, you're very beautiful, mom, but..." My voice trailed off, as I felt her hand slide down my back, now going underneath my ass, lifting my 155 pounds like I was a baby..."Mom! What are you doing?!"

She didn't answer, her eyes now sparkling, the hint of a smile on her half-parted lips, a pink tongue peeking at me. Her left arm, bulging with vein-covered muscle, grabbed my left shoulder, and she pulled me into her body, my chest coming to a stop against the heavenly softness of her breast. Her other hand carried me up, placing my butt in her lap, the muscles on her thighs dancing, rocking me gently. I froze, as scared - and excited - as I've ever been before in my life. She looked down at me, her face inches from mine, her smile now angelic, full of promise.

"M-mom...?"

Her lips were suddenly on mine, soft and loving, her tongue gently pushing forward, teasing. I was too stunned at first, my senses overwhelmed, and I just sat there, trying to process it all: the loving lips, exploring my mouth, the heavy, unthinkably muscled arm holding my shoulder, the magnificently round and pliable breast pressing into my chest, a quickly-hardening nipple brushing against me, the corded thighs, kneading me from below, the silky smooth hardness of her abs, as my hand started exploring underneath her tight t-shirt, my dick struggling to break free of my pants...

I pulled back, my hand almost flying to the side, aghast. "Mom! Please! We can't... we can't do this! Please stop!"

She looked at me, silent, biting her lower lip, a light dancing behind lowered eyelashes. The big house was silent, the low humming of the kitchen fridge the only sound. "Do you really want me to stop, Dean?" she finally asked, quietly.

I looked at her - my mother, the woman of my fantasies, who against all odds pulled herself from the pits of despair, now her old self again, only so-so-so much more mind-bogglingly sexier... And she was here, her magnificent body against mine, her lips parted, ready to ravish me once more... Without thinking, the small voice of reason in my head a teeny, distant shout, barely-heard, I leaned into her, my lips going up to hers, my hand exploring the valleys of her sumptuous body, feeling her mountainous breasts. Our lips locked in a slow, lingering kiss, our tongues entwined in a languid dance. My body pressed against her, my hands exploring her body, my dick rock-hard, straining against the ridges of her abs. Her hands, callused and hard, gently kneading my back, one hand going up, cupping my chin, stroking it softly...

It lasted for a few minutes - or was it hours? I honestly couldn't tell you. We finally broke, and I just sat there in her lap, smiling like an idiot, her eyes, with a thousand tiny wrinkles crowning them, filling my whole world. She smiled, the smile lighting up the room with the luminescence of a thousand suns. "Thank you", she said.

"For what?", I asked, puzzled.

She was serious now, her eyes holding mine in a steady, gentle gaze. "For everything. For not giving up on me, for helping me in my darkest hours... For being the best son a mother could have."

I didn't know what to say. I wasn't really good at that touchy-feely stuff. I mean, I could handle the touchy part, all right, but feelings... I squirmed a little in her arms, lowering my eyes. " Oh, come on, mom..."

She laughed, feigning anger. "You are such a man! First sign of emotion, and your instinct is to run for the hills! I meant what I said. I'm really grateful, and I love you very much."

I blushed, feeling very much that the spell was broken. "I love you too, mom, you know that, right?" My hand crept up her torso, the sound of my dick screaming for release now a thunderous roar in my mind. "Can we..."

She smiled, amused now. "No, sweetie, not tonight. You go up to your room, play Fortnite with Adam or whatever it is you do there. I think I'll turn in early, I'm on the third Witcher book and Yennefer is killing it!" She rose up from the sofa without any visible effort, carrying me cradled in her massive arms like a baby. She kissed me gently on my lips, and then stood me up, her massive figure towering over me. "Now scoot, baby. Mommy has a date with destiny!"

I stood for a moment, feeling like I just came down on a roller coaster and crashed into the ground. I must have looked really morose, because mom laughed, then leaned down, her hands holding my shoulders, her face against mine. "We crossed a bridge today, baby. There's no going back. But you've got to give mommy time. It's been a... long journey. I don't want to rush things, this is too important to me."

I smiled at her, soaking in the warmth of her smile. "It's OK, mom, I can wait. Good night!"

"Good night, sweetie. And you too, little Dean! See you soon!" she was smiling mischievously, glancing meaningfully at the bulge that was threatening to explode my zipper to shreds.

I blushed, saying nothing. I turned and walked to my room (more like waddled to my room, as walking is rather hard to do when you have a 6" long pipe stuck in your pants, trying to break free...). I obviously didn't play much - or any - Fortnite that night. Or get a lot of sleep. I was trying to process what happened that evening - all in between seemingly endless sessions of jerking off. Nothing was the same, any more, and I had no idea where this was headed and what was in store for me, but I sure was ready to find out!

CHAPTER TWO

In which there is much discussion

I came down the next morning to be welcomed - like every other morning - by the smell of frying eggs. Mom was standing by the stove, her back to me. She was wearing her oversized Cam Newton T- shirt, which did a good job of hiding her curves - though nothing could hide those shoulders...

"I'm making an Italian scramble with sausage" she called over her shoulder. "you good with that?"

"That's the one with the spinach?" I asked.

"Yes, and it's very tasty and it's good for you and you'll eat it and you'll like it!"

"Well, I thought you asked..."

"Don't be a smart-ass" she said with mock sternness "Just sit down, it'll be ready in about four minutes."

I didn't mind the wait. I sat down, my eyes glued to her body, gliding lithely between the prep counter and the stove. The mornings were still a bit chilly, and she was wearing baggy jumpsuit pants. I watched, fascinated, as every move brought another of her thigh muscles or her gigantic calves into relief, briefly stretching the black fabric. Then my eyes moved up, taking in the majesty of her round, jutting glutes...

"You OK back there, munchkin? You seem awfully quiet."

I shook my head, tearing my eyes from her body, all too aware of the awakening snake in my pants. Not NOW, you moron!

"No, yeah, I was just... daydreaming."

"I'll bet you were," she said dryly. "Sleep well?"

"mm... OK, I guess..."

"Right... my guess would have been: no?"

She turned around and came to the table, holding two plates. She sat down - a feat that over the last few months has become something of an operation, as she had to take into account all those muscles, bulging all over her body. I guessed she was back to her weight of 3 years ago - though now there wasn't quite as much fat. I guessed she was at over 200 pounds, and I knew - now from first-hand experience! - that most of it was quite solid...

She looked at me from across the table. "I know it was a lot to take in, baby. Maybe I shouldn't have been so - you know - but, damn, you were just so freakin' CUTE, sitting there all red-faced, telling me about your friends lusting for your freakin' MOM..."

I groaned out loud. "M-om! Come ON!"

She was laughing out loud now. "Hey - I'm your mom, we were programmed to embarrass our kids...!"

I looked at her, sourly. "Just let me at least get through breakfast, OK? This is hard enough without you making fun of me..."

She grew serious, reaching across the table and taking my hand in hers. "Sorry, munchkin, I know it's all very weird, maybe a bit frightening, even. Look - I'm going out with Alice and Marge tonight, but we'll have the whole weekend to ourselves. We'll see what's what, then, OK?"

I nodded, giving the semblance of a smile. I felt a stab of almost-physical pain when she let go of my hand, going back to her food. God, I wanted her SO much!! I finished eating in a haze - not even noticing the spinach - and went round to wash my plate. "OK, mom, we'll talk later. Have a nice day at the gym."

I bent down to kiss her cheek goodbye, as I often did, but she turned her face to me, meeting my lips with hers, her hand moving up, grabbing my hip, giving it a little squeeze. The softness of her lips, the barest touch of her tongue flicking against mine - it brought the memory of the previous evening rushing back, and I was getting very hard, very fast. But she broke away, patted my butt, and said: "Goodbye, sweetie. Have a nice day at school - and don't be too hard on Adam!"

***

As you could probably guess, the trip to school was quite the torturous experience. I now knew it for sure: I was going to have sex with my mom. I just had no idea what this entailed... I know this will come as a shock to you, but I was still a virgin. I dated this girl, Jenny Wilmore, for a few months my junior year, and I even got to second base, but somehow I didn't feel that prepared me for the experience of making love to my domestic goddess... I just HAD to talk to someone who knew about that stuff. I also needed - like, DESPERATELY - to talk to someone about last night's experience. And there was just one person in James B. Hunt High who fit the bill.

I've been friends with Adam Manning since fourth grade. He was always a bit of a jock, but he was also quite goofy, had a sense of humor and shared my love of video games and anime. Nowadays we spent most of our time together (out of school) playing against each other on-line, but we still talked a lot. He was quite the stud - 6'2", built like a brick house, fairly good looking. He was the star tight end on our school's team (on which I was the punt return guy, shut UP!!), and was very popular with the girls. He was going out with Ellison Perry, who was quite hot, for almost half a year, and I know (well, he told me) that they were having sex. If anyone could help me, it was him.

I caught up with him as he was about to go into the dining hall for lunch. I grabbed him and dragged him away. When he protested that he needed to "fucking EAT, man!", I shoved a burrito into his hand and told him it was urgent. I took him to the "Stoners' Corner" at the back, and we sat down on the low brick wall.

"Look, man" he said, talking between bites on his burrito "if it's about yesterday, I'm really sorry. I know I was out of line, OK? I just...well..."