Forbidden Love

Their behavior on the boat was NOT how a mother and son should behave! She charged it off to alcohol, marijuana, and the ambiance. She maintained a discreet distance between them since they docked. She noted that the bulge in her son's board shorts was now a smaller, though still respectable, lump.

"Is it okay if I sleep in the tent?"

"I don't know...." Susan began.

"Certainly!" Craig chimed in. "The only way in or out of this cove is the river. It's totally safe."

Later that night, barefoot, clad only in her silk pajama bottom and matching sleeveless robe, Susan sat on the prow of the houseboat smoking a reefer. She took a long lung-filling puff of the joint. It was the best they had had in some time.

So good, she thought ruefully, that Craig fell asleep after some intense foreplay, leaving me hot and bothered.

Her robe hung open, and her tits swung as she eased her free hand down the front of her pajama bottom. She left it open after Craig fell asleep while sucking her nipple. Her nipples were still hard and a little sore.

Their soreness reminded her of breastfeeding Allen. He was a hungry baby and usually left her nipples sore like they were now.

Susan rubbed her aching pussy with her open hand. With the other, she caressed her breast, squeezing it and then sliding her hand to her rigid nipple. She hissed as she pulled hard on her nipple, causing her some pain. Susan loved the pain/pleasure sensation suffusing her body. She felt the same pain/pleasure when her baby son used to suckle.

She loved how her arousal built slowly when she masturbated like this. It gradually permeated her body. Just before she came, she stopped, relishing the feeling of her hips squirming as she denied herself the release.

She loved edging like this...getting right to the point before she came and stopping. Some nights when her husband was away on business, she did this for hours. Finally, when she let herself cum, it was always explosive. She lost control of her limbs, they flopped around as her body convulsed and her pussy spasmed in orgasm.

Susan slipped her index finger back into her dripping hole, coating her finger with her juices. She hissed as she slowly withdrew the finger and took it in her mouth, enjoying her taste.

She had only tasted one other pussy. It was her BFF and neighbor Kelly, and that was a one-time thing brought on by wine and marijuana. But she still recalled the delicious taste of Kelly's pussy and how she squirted when she came. Susan had never squirted, not even when Kelly ate her.

She took another deep drag on the joint, filling her lungs with the acrid smoke. She was higher than she usually got. It felt so damn good to be sitting under a starlit sky masturbating. She felt free and horny!

Susan watched the shadow of her son moving about the tent on the shore. What the hell was he doing? Susan smiled. He probably had some porn on his iPad and was also masturbating.

Impulsively she snuffed out the joint. She scrambled down the ladder into the warm river water. The water was thigh high here, soaking the bottom of her pajamas, making them transparent.

She waded to shore instead of using the dock, unsure of why she went. She imagined herself a nymph rising dripping wet from the water.

"Allen! Are you up?"

She noticed her son moving about in the tent. She smiled as she heard him scrambling.

I was right, she thought. He was either masturbating or looking at porn, probably both.

Now he was struggling to hide the evidence. Allen left his Ipad open once, and she saw photos of mature women in various stages of undress and having sex. Some of the women had the same body she had. They had soft bodies and big jugs.

"Just a moment, mom."

Allen was trying to dissipate the marijuana odor in the tent. He had been smoking and edging, thinking of that afternoon and his mother's seeming acquiescence.

"Well, hurry! The mosquitoes think they have found something good to eat!"

The corners of her mouth pulled up in a devilish smile. She recalled how much she enjoyed Craig eating her out. Like many things they used to enjoy, pussy licking had gone by the wayside.

Susan remembered changing the semen-soiled sheets on Allen's bed or retrieving his laundry from the hamper. She would hold the item to her nose, inhaling the fragrant semen aroma.

A few times, after toking, she took a pair of his cum stained Jockey shorts to her bedroom. There she stripped off her house dress. Clad only in her panties, she rarely wore a bra at home; she jilled herself off while holding her son's fragrant underwear to her nose.

The zipper of the inner tent flap opened. Allen scrambled back and sat cross-legged against the far wall in the tight confines of the tent.

"Is everything alright, mom?"

Susan crawled into the tent on all fours. She stopped half in, half out of the tent. She was experiencing a cannabis-induced sense of detached wellbeing.

"Yes! I wasn't sleepy and decided to come to see how you were doing"

"I...uh...I'm fine!"

Allen wore only his Jockeys. She saw a noticeable bulge in his underwear in the dim light of the Coleman lantern.

Allen stared at his mother's chest. Her loose-fitting robe drooped, exposing her ample breasts with their hard, large nipples.

"Well, will you invite me in or leave me here and let the mosquitoes devour me?"

Why am I here, she thought? I shouldn't be here.

"Sure, mom! Come on in."

Susan crawled into the tent, barely three feet separating her from her son. Her nostrils filled with the strong pheromone-laden aroma of his 18-year-old body. Her pussy flooded, recalling her masturbation sessions with his cum stained briefs held to her nose.

Unmindful of the transparency of her wet silk pajama bottoms and partially open robe, she sat with her back to the tent opening and crossed her legs. She only became aware of how exposed she was when she noticed her son's eyes glued to her crotch. That sense of wellbeing and detachment induced by marijuana caused her to accept that he probably could see her sex.

"I probably should have taken these off so they wouldn't get wet when I waded ashore."

"If you hang them outside, they will dry pretty quickly."

As the words slipped from his lips, he mentally tried to yank his mind back in gear. He had proposed the unthinkable to his mother. There would be hell to pay.

Years later, Susan would look back on this moment as seminal. Allen inadvertently became dominant, ordering her to strip. She slipped into her favorite role, the submissive. As a sub, she was not responsible for her actions.

They were in the classic D/s roleplay; he would command, and she would willingly obey.

She wiggled out of her pajama shorts. She ignored the warning bell that went off in her mind.

Susan tossed the shorts to the side. She sat with her legs crossed, her pussy gleaming, facing her son's spread legs. She watched Allen as his cock, almost impossibly, grew larger, the dark, swollen head popping through the slit in his underwear.

"I can see the head of your cock," she giggled.

"Uh...I'm sorry, mom." Allen struggled to stuff his cock back in his shorts. "Mom, what's going on?"

"Going on," she asked coyly. "Can't a mother visit her son?"

Allen nodded toward his mother's open legs. The gleaming wetness of her cunt was apparent even in the dim light of the 15-watt Coleman lantern.

"Perhaps, I should go to the boat and get you something to cover yourself."

"Sure! My clothes are in the closet in the bedroom where your father is sleeping!"

Smiling impishly, Susan scooted to the side.

Allen scrambled to all fours. He tried to stay away from his mother while crawling by her without touching her.

Susan reached over and stroked his cock through his shorts as her son passed her.

"MOM! STOP!"

Allen scrambled back to the far side of the tent. His mother sat up with her legs on either side of him, her pussy barely three feet away. He was frightened and aroused. His mother had never behaved like this.

Susan caught the faint residual odor of marijuana when she entered the tent A haze of wellbeing enhanced by Allen's pheromones filled the small tent. Her pussy was sticky with her juices.

"Have you been smoking dope," she asked, faking a sternness she did not feel.

"No...YES! Look, mom, cover yourself with the blanket. I...,"

He fumbled for the right words as he pushed the blanket toward her.

Susan reached for the blanket and missed it the first time. Her head swam. She felt disoriented and out of body.

I'm a lot higher than usual, she thought.

The alarm sounded in her head, warning her of the impropriety of what she was contemplating. She shook it to clear it.

"Where is it, young man?"

Susan's lopsided smile belied the sternness she tried to get into her voice. She was enjoying Allen's discomfort.

He tossed one end of the blanket over his mother's lower body. He reached under the other end of the blanket and pulled out his blunt.

Susan was uncaring of the compromising position she put her and her son in. She still felt playful.

"What is that?" She leaned forward.

"It's a blunt. I hollow out a cigar and stuff it with J. It enhances the high."

Allen's cock throbbed as his mother leaned forward. Again, he saw down her top. Not as far as before when she was on her knees entering the tent. But enough that he could see the full curve of her breasts.

Her nipples were large and impossibly hard, unlike the breasts he saw online. Her areola was large with little bumps on it.

"Really! Let me try it!"

"Are you sure, mom?'

"Yes! Give it to me!"

Susan giggled. Those were the same words she used when she and her husband fucked.

Allen reached under the blanket and retrieved his Bic lighter. He fired up the blunt and handed it to his mother. He stole glances at her body as she inhaled deeply.

He had seen her like this once before. She and his father came home early in the morning from a New Year's Eve party. She was high, all giggly and playful. They came into his bedroom to wish him a happy new year.

When she kissed him on the lips to wish him a happy new year, her tongue touched his lips. Startled, he pulled back. She winked at him, took his father's hand, and led him down the hall to their bedroom. Later he heard her profane screams as they had sex.

"Careful, mom! The tobacco and the weed combination can hit you pretty hard."

Watery-eyed, Susan smiled at her son. He seemed to be further away and fuzzy. She took another big hit and handed him the blunt.

"Allen, I was smoking this shit before you were born."

She watched as he held the blunt in his hand.

"Go on! Take a hit! Are you going to let your old mother get high alone?"

Allen took a long deep pull, huffing to hold the smoke in his lungs as long as he could. When he finally exhaled, only a thin cloud of smoke came out.

"WOW! Let me try that!"

Susan reached for the proffered blunt and missed. She crawled to where her son was and sat next to him. They were squeezed shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh in the tent.

Outside the tent and across the small beach, the houseboat with her sleeping husband floated at anchor.

Allen's eyes dropped to his mother's thighs as she inhaled. They seemed to glow in the lantern's dim light and through the haze of the marijuana smoke.

He touched her thigh. It felt smooth and warm.

Susan coughed explosively when she tried to huff like he had, spraying saliva across the tent. Her cough caused her to slide forward, and Allen's hand slid between her legs.

Allen froze. His was on his mother's pussy, the first pussy he ever touched.

"No, Allen! Don't!"

Susan was aware of her son's hand on her privates. Her plea was plaintive and insincere. The scene played into her fantasies while masturbating with his semen-stained underwear to her nose. She recalled the websites she browsed while researching her son's prepubescent fascination with her body. Some suggested sex with a son was okay. Sober, the idea was ridiculous. High it was probable, though scary.

"I love you, momma!"

Allen felt his mother's steaming pussy's wetness as his index finger slid between her swollen cunt lips.

"Allen, we need to stop. This has gone too far."

Susan grabbed his hand but did not pull his finger from her pussy. Instead, her hips pumped up involuntarily as Allen's finger slid into her depths.

"I love you, momma," he repeated, unsure what to say.

Allen slowly finger fucked his mother, emulating what he saw in the porn movies and reveling in the warm wetness of her hole. Marijuana suppressed the conditioned response of a child to obey a parent. With his free hand, he pulled loose the belt of her robe.

Unaware of what he was dominating her, Allen reinforced his mother's submissive side, ignoring her insincere pleas.

"Please, Allen, no!" Susan clutched at Allen's hand, pushing her robe open.

Her body betrayed her. As she pleaded with her son to stop, her hips pumped against his invading finger.

With a strength enhanced by desperation, Susan lunged forward, intending to escape the tent and put distance between her son and her. The robe came off in Allen's hand.

"Oh my god, mom! Your breasts are amazing."

Allen stared unabashedly at his mother's large breasts.

"Stop, Allen, stop!" Why am I so wet?

Susan crossed her arms over her chest in a futile attempt to cover herself. Allen stripping off her robe played into her fantasy of being forcibly taken. It was a fantasy she and Craig often roleplayed. Now, her son was the aggressor. It was at once frightening and intensely erotic.

I can't fuck my son. I can't!

Reason tried to flood back into her addled mind. This was the real world, not a fantasy. This was not a story she read on the Literotica website. Nor was it a role play with her husband. Unless she stopped him, her son was going to fuck her!

Driven by lust, inhibitions lowered by the drug, Allen grasped his mother's nipple and tweaked it.

His heart was in his throat. He was taking charge, emulating the stories he read when researching BDSM. His mother's half-hearted resistance suggested she was enjoying it.

Susan dropped to her hands and knees and tried to crawl out of the tent. Her emotions ran the gamut from fear to unholy arousal. Her pussy was gooey wet. She was halfway out when Allen grabbed her ankle and pulled her back.

Susan lay on her belly, breathing harshly. She fought weakly as Allen caressed her ass while holding her ankle. She clawed at the air mattress, scrambling to get out of the tent. She felt the weight of her son's body as he crawled onto her back, using his knees to force her legs apart. He pinned her arms above her head.

"No, Allen, no!"

Despite her protest, her pussy gushed. Her fantasy world, enhanced by alcohol and reefer, was intruding on real life.

She stopped struggling when the head of his cock pressed against her entrance. She knew she wanted this. She wanted him since she inhaled his scent while masturbating with his semen-stained underwear. Now his aroma filled her nostrils and drove her lust.

She wanted to surrender, to be taken! She wanted Allen to do to her whatever he wanted while her last vestiges of reason screamed at her not to let him.

She tried to raise her arms. Allen was stronger; he kept them pinned above her head. Her eyes widened as his cock sank into her. His length, led by his large mushroom head, filled her.

"Should I stop, mom? Do you really want me to stop?"

Allen pumped slowly in and out of his mother's creaming hole.

"No, baby," she whispered, "I don't want you to stop."

Susan stopped struggling but thrust her hips up against her son. The sensation of his tool filling her hole permeated her body. She was where she wanted to be, doing what she wanted to do!

"If I had those silk ropes you and dad hide under the bed, I would tie you up! Would you like that, mom? Would you like your son to fuck you while you were restrained?"

"Anything you want! Just Fuck me, Allen! Fuck your mommy!"

Susan felt some discomfort as her son's cock filled her hole. He was bigger than his father, much bigger! Her pussy farted as her son's cock slid in her dripping wet cunt, pushing out the air.

That's what it is, she thought. A cunt, a hole for my son to use.

She thrust back against her son's invading tool.

"Mom...I... never thought pussy could feel this good."

Sweat dripped from His face. Despite being high and having his cock buried to the hilt in his mother's spasming hole, he felt self-conscious as he gripped her hips.

"Am I your first?"

Susan gasped out the words.

"Yes, mom! I have dreamed about this time! I always hoped it would be someone I loved. Someone like you!"

"Oh, baby! Baby! This is so special!"

"Mom! This is incredible. I fantasized about this moment but never thought it would happen!"

He rose to his knees, pulling her hips back to meet his thrusting hips. Susan dropped her head below her shoulders and moaned as her pussy quaked to an orgasm.

With youthful stamina, Allen did not slow down. He had masturbated twice that evening. There was little chance of him cumming.

"Spank me, baby! Spank mommy's ass!"

Being spanked enhanced her feeling of submission, of being taken. Craig was uncomfortable with the implications and rarely did it.

Allen drew his hand back and slapped his mother's behind.

The moment was surreal. Outside, mosquitoes buzzed at the screened opening. Across a small beach, their houseboat lay anchored in this sheltered river cove. In that boat, Craig slept, unaware that the relationship between him, his wife, and their son was changing forever.

Allen's cock was buried balls deep in his mother's pussy, claiming it as his own!

"Harder, baby! Harder! Make me feel some pain."

"I don't want to hurt you, mom!"

Allen wiped the sweat from his face.

The marijuana had Susan mentally in another place. That her son was fucking her, there was no doubt. However, the illicitness of the lewd act drove her to indulge her fantasies.

"But I want you to hurt me, sweetie. I want you to punish me for being such a slut. Slap my ass hard!"

Allen raised his hand above his head and brought it down hard. The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounded in the small tent.

"AWWWW FUCK YEA! FUCK! Do it again! Harder and keep punishing me! Punish me for being a slut! Punish me for fucking my son!"

Allen also was in another place. Though sexually inexperienced, a mature woman, his mother, was enjoying his cock and begging him to spank her. It was like, and unlike the vids, he saw online.

He drew one hand back and brought it down, whistling through the air and smacking his mother's ass. Before she could react to the first slap, he hit her ass with his other hand.

Susan screamed and instinctively shrank away from Allen's hand. Then she thrust back hard, reveling in the ache as her son's cock bruised her cervix. As he continued to rain slaps on her ass cheeks, she began to cum, her body shaking with the violence of her climax. She thrust back spasmodically against Allen, pumping cock.

He leaned over, getting his mouth close to her ear.

"I love your pussy, momma," he whispered.

She turned her head, found his lips, and kissed him, their tongues dueling.

"I love your dick, baby! And I love the way you fuck your momma!"

Exhausted, she collapsed to her belly, her arms and legs splayed. Allen followed her down and continued fucking her. His lust was all-consuming. And though he felt a faint tingle in his balls, he was far from cumming.

Susan was like a ragdoll, boneless and compliant as her son fucked her. She could see the houseboat swinging at anchor not 30 feet away. She rose to her knees again when her son pulled on her hips.