I Love You, Need You & Want You, Ma

He imagined her looking at him with sexual excitement.

'Would you do me the honor of licking and fingering my pussy before making love to me and before fucking me? You're right. I need to get laid. I need to have an orgasm,' he imagined his mother responding in kind. 'Perhaps, you're right about me needing to blow you too. Perhaps, my cure for my sadness is to suck you prick and have you cum in my mouth.'

He imagined giving her a sexy smile.

'I'd love nothing more than to eat your cunt mother. I'd love nothing more than to bang the top of your blonde, pretty head against the headboard while watching your naked breasts bounce up and down and sway side to side,' he thought. 'I'd love nothing more for you to scream my name in orgasmic bliss. I'd love nothing more than to suck my cock and to cum in your mouth.'

Yet, just as he'd never say any of those things to his mother, she'd never think any of those things to him. Nonetheless what he was thinking, able to see it in her big, blue eyes, she was in emotional pain. Yet, selfishly thinking more of himself, he needed to think more of his mother's feelings. With him able to justify and explain away his sexual attraction for his mother, his excuse was that he was from a broken home. With his parents always fighting, his father drinking and disappearing for long periods of time, having grown close to his mother, he was always protective of her.

Convolutedly in thought, as if he possessed the magic cure, he justified that the best way for them to get what they both hopefully wanted, happiness and sexual satisfaction, was for them to be incestuously intimate with one another. Only, with the hard part convincing his mother that he was the one to end her sadness and was the key to her happiness, she'd never go for them being sexually intimate. Something never to be, she'd never give him incestuous sex. She'd never suck his cock, make love to him, and fuck him in the way he imagined she did in his sexual fantasies.

* * * * *

### SusanJillParker -- 10 ###

After she had too much to drink, Robert imagines carrying his mother to bed and undressing her while having his incestuous, sexual way with her naked body.

* * * * *

As if he was watching an attractive stranger, a MILF of a cougar, from the end of the bar that he'd love to ask home for sex, he watched his mother take another sip of her wine. Nothing new there, she always drank more when she was sad. She always drank more around the holidays. With her the saddest around the holidays, she drank the most during the holidays. Sadness, the holidays, and drinking went hand in hand with a broken heart. Yet, with her not much of a drinker the rest of the year, he had never seen his mother falling down drunk just slightly intoxicated.

He didn't understand why she was still missing her ex-husband. Especially during the holidays, she drank more when she missed him. Only this time was different. Now with him home from college and alone with his mother without his father there to interfere, he hoped to change her sadness to happiness and perhaps even give her a bit of sexual excitement. In the way that he sexually titillated her this morning, he hoped to sexually titillate her again later tonight.

With her obviously needing more encouragement to have sex with him than he needed any encouragement to have sex with her, he hoped to use her inebriated state against her. Something he always imagined doing, being that he was the incestuous pervert that he was, he'd love to put her to bed and undress her. A sexual fantasy come true, he'd loved to strip her naked. If she wouldn't willingly have sex with him, he'd love to sexually take advantage of her by undressing her. He'd never have sex with her drunken body, of course, but he'd love nothing more than to see her without her clothes while touching and feeling her everywhere.

Nothing new in his incestuous lust for his mother, he stared at her as if he was watching an online, X-rated, webcam video and she was topless and/or naked. He'd pay big bucks to watch her strip herself and even masturbate herself on webcam. In the way that he had such a dirty mind and such an incestuous attraction to his mother, he attached sexual thoughts with everything she said and everything she did. Thinking that she sexually wanted him as much as he sexually wanted her, he sometimes thought that his incestuous thoughts were her incestuous thoughts.

The wine she drank wet her full, red lips in the way that he imagined his passionate kisses wetting her full, red lips. The wine she drank wet her full, red lips in the way that he imagined his cum wetting her full, red lips after she blew him and after he ejaculated his lust for her in her mouth and all over her pretty face. Leaving a red circle around his cock, lipstick on the dipstick, he'd love for his mother to leave her bright, red lipstick on his cock. If she left lipstick on his dipstick, he'd never wash his cock again.

Obviously, something she never saw before, after his mother had watched him masturbating, as if in shock, she stayed in his bedroom by his opened door to stare at his erect prick and to watch him cum. Now that he saw her fingering her nipple and her pussy through her clothes and knows she was obviously sexually aroused by watching him masturbating and cumming. Giving her a sexy striptease show, he'd love to masturbate himself again for her. As if he was a CFNM stripper and she was a birthday girl in the audience, he'd love for her to watch him stroke himself and cum again.

Maybe if she pretended that he was a CFNM stripper instead of her son, she'd lick whipped cream from his cock. All in good fun, maybe she'd even take his stiff prick in her mouth while stroking him. Maybe if she was drunk enough and horny enough, she'd allow him to put a gentle hand behind her blonde, pretty head and hump her mouth and fuck her face. He'd love nothing more than to cum in his mother's beautiful mouth. He'd love nothing more than to watch his mother swallow his cum.

Maybe if watching him masturbate himself sexually excited her, she'd allow him to touch and feel her tits and finger her nipples while fingering her pussy. Who knows, maybe she'd even want to stroke his cock, suck his cock, and/or fuck his cock? Starting out small, rather than having a full-blown incestuous sexual relationship, he'd love to masturbate with her while watching a porn movie. From there, maybe they'd masturbate one another before moving on to licking, sucking, and fucking.

Giving her another personal, private masturbation show, he'd love her to catch him masturbating again. He'd love to cum again just for her. As if that would ever happen but he'd love to not only cum in her mouth but also all over her beautiful face. Just as he envied his father for being sexually intimate with his MILF of a mother, he thought his father was a fool for leaving such a rare gem of a fine woman for a whore of a woman half his age.

An immature little girl, in the way that his father's whore was an 18-year-old child when meeting her and first having sex with her, he was no child then and is no child now. He was a 24-year-old man now who knew what he wanted and what he wanted was to have sex with his mother. Yet, as much as he was an incestuous pervert for lusting over his mother, his father was a pedophile pervert for lusting over his 18-year-old, ex-girlfriend. How dare he do that to his mother and to him? Their forbidden, sexual relationship started with his father when he was out shopping with his mother and his father was home alone with his girlfriend.

His girlfriend came looking for him and his father took sexual advantage of her by getting her drunk. As if having sex with his babysitter, a 42-year-old, married man having sex with an 18-year-old woman, that was so scandalous. That was so nasty. That was so wrong. Who knows with her having Daddy issues, maybe she was the one who took sexual advantage of his father? Then, with one thing leading to another, not long after, his Dad took off with his girlfriend. As soon as his divorce from his mother was final, he married his ex-girlfriend, Jessica, four-years ago.

When he could have taken up with anyone else, his mother never got over his Dad marrying her son's ex-girlfriend. Now, at a time when she was the most vulnerable sexually, Valentine's Day, the day of love, romance, passion, and sex, he'd love to get his mother tipsy. Like father like son, he hoped that his mother would consume enough wine for him to take sexual advantage of her in the way that his father took sexual advantage of his drunken, ex-girlfriend.

Not wanting her to drink too much to get sick, but he'd love for her to drink enough wine that he'd have to lovingly put her to bed. How hot would that be to slowly undress his mother and strip her naked? How hot would that be for his mother to drink enough wine to loosen her morals, lessen her modesty, and lose her sexual inhibitions. How hot would that be for his mother to willingly and consensually, albeit drunkenly, have sex with her son?

If nothing more than a sexual fantasy that he enjoyed masturbating over, with her having not soundly slept since his father left, he imagined his mother intoxicated just enough to fall asleep on the couch. Checking to see if she was sleeping, he imagined feeling her breasts through her blouse and feeling her pussy through her panties before picking her up from the couch and carrying her to her bedroom and to bed. He imagined her short skirt lifting to her crotch and giving him an up-skirt view of her panties when putting her down on the bed. He imagined staring at her exposed, white bikini panties as she soundly slept.

Then, touching and feeling her inebriated body through her clothes in all the places he always imagined touching and feeling her, he imagined she was his lover instead of his mother. Careful not to awaken her from her drunken slumber, as if unwrapping an expensive Valentine's Day gift, he imagined undressing his mother. Just the imagined thought of undressing her sent shivers down his spine and erected his prick. Just the imagined thought of seeing her in her bra and panties, topless, and/or naked, made him want to encourage his mother to drink more.

While she peacefully slept, he imagined unbuttoning her blouse one slow button at a time. Taking his time undressing her, he imagined stopping to see what each unbuttoned button revealed before unbuttoning the next button and before flaying open her blouse to expose her bra clad, C cup breasts. Instead of just seeing her cleavage and the top of her low-cut, sexy bra whenever she leaned forward at the waist in front of him, he imagined seeing the entirety of her white lace, satin bra cups. He imagined staring down at his sleeping mother to make sure that she was still sleeping.

Then, as if she was his girlfriend and they were making out while parked, he imagined feeling his mother's breasts and fingering her nipples through her sexy, low-cut brassiere as she slept. Taking a chance that she may awaken, he imagined leaning down to suck her nipples through her sheer brassiere, first one and then the other. Then, as soon as her nipples erected from him sucking them through her bra, he imagined fingering them through the wet spots on her bra. As if they were old style, radio knobs and he was adjusting the volume and/or changing the station, he imagined pulling, turning, and twisting her nipples for them to erect even more.

Then, as if there was a drumroll of suspense going off in his head, he imagined unbuttoning and unzipping his mother's short skirt with trembling fingers. As soon as he unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt, he exposed the side of her white, bikini panties. Careful not to awaken her by disturbing her, as if he was a pickpocket picking her pockets, he imagined stealthily removing her skirt in the way of slowly unwrapping another expensive, Valentine's Day gift. Then taking a step back, he imagined staring at his mother in her sheer white, bikini panties and matching sheer, white, low-cut bra before taking out his digital camera to snap some, sexy, candid photos of her in her underwear.

Seeing her lying there on her bed soundly sleeping, he imagined her looking as if she was a dead body that he was viewing her at the morgue without the decency of a sheet. Now that she was there before his horny eyes in her sexy underwear, he imagined examining her sexy, shapely body more closely. Staring at ever mole and freckle, he stared at her as if she was naked. In the way that he had already seen of her in so many up-skirt peeks, he imagined seeing her pussy mound, her camel toe, and her pussy slit through her sheer panties.

While she lay on her back so soundly sleeping with her legs slightly parted, he imagined touching and feeling his mother through her exposed underwear where no son should ever touch and feel his mother. As if she was a shoplifter and he was a male, loss prevention employee searching her for stolen goods, he imagined touching, feeling, and fondling his mother's breast while fingering her nipples through her bra. As if he was a customs agent in a foreign country searching her for drugs or for hidden contraband, he imagined feeling her ass before sliding a slow finger along her pussy slit through her panties.

Hoping he didn't awaken her, as if he was alone with a drunken woman on a subway, he imagined masturbating his mother through her panties as she slept. Gently masturbating her in her sleep, he imagined pressing down on her clit while sliding a slow but purposeful finger along her pussy slit through her panties. As if she was his blind date who was afflicted with Narcolepsy, he'd be deemed such a cad to take sexual advantage of his drunken, sleeping mother. Nonetheless, with him being such a sexual scoundrel, he imagined continuing to masturbate her while fingering her erect nipples through her bra.

Not nearly done undressing and incestuously and sexually assaulting his mother in her inebriated deep, sleep state, eager to strip her naked, he saved the best for last. As if unlocking a safe that contained his mother's secret and most valued, family jewels, he imagined ever so slowly and gently unsnapping her front snapping bra. Again, as if there was a drumroll of suspense going off in his head before parting open his mother's bra, he imagined how Moses must have felt just before parting the Red Sea.

Instead of rushing open her bra to see her naked breasts, he took his time. The first time seeing her naked tits, he wanted to remember this moment forever. Leaving her bra unsnapped but in place, he imagined sliding a slow finger along her breast bone and in between her soon to be naked breasts. He felt the side and the shape of one of her bulbous breasts before feeling the size and the shape her other bulbous breast. Then, just before removing her bra cups, as if he had died and gone to Heaven, he heard music playing.

'Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah,' he imagined angels singing before seeing his mother's naked breasts. 'Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah.'

With sexual anticipation erecting his prick, while imagining that he was opening the gates of Heaven by parting his mother's brassiere, he was ready to reveal her naked breasts. Something he had yearned to see for six, long, sexually frustrating years and something he had imagined seeing while masturbating himself, this was the moment of his mother's unveiling. Hoping that she'd continue sleeping while he uncovered her breasts, he couldn't wait to see her big, naked tits.

'This was it. This was really it. I'm about to see my mother's naked tits,' he imagined thinking while undressing her.

He was stunned and in shock that he was about to unveil his mother's naked breasts. He couldn't wait to masturbate over all that he was imagining seeing of his mother now, later. As if he was opening the Tabernacle cabinet that housed the gold, Communion chalice behind the altar in a Catholic Church, Robert imagined holding his mother's unsnapped bra in each hand, before slowly parting her brassiere. He imagined feeling the way that Vincent Vega, played by John Travolta in Pulp Fiction, felt when opening the briefcase of Marsellus Wallace, played by Ving Rhames.

"Vincent," said Samuel L. Jackson as Jules Winnfield. "Are we good?"

'Oh, yeah,' thought Robert about to behold his mother's beautiful orbs. 'We're good. We're very good.'

As he parted his mother's brassiere, he imagined a shimmering light of gold emanating from her opened bra in the way that it did from the opened briefcase in Pulp Fiction. As if his mother's naked breasts were the golden idol in the Raiders of the Lost Ark, he imagined he was Indiana Jones played by Harrison Ford. When he finally separated his mother's brassiere, he imagined staring at her naked breasts as if he had never seen naked breasts before. He imagined staring at his mother's naked breasts as if they were an unearthed buried treasure or a priceless work of art.

Kneeling before them while worshiping his false idols, he imagined staring at her naked breasts as if they were religious symbols that were worthy of his undying worship. He imagined staring at his mother's naked breasts before touching, feeling, and fondling her naked tits. He imagined fingering her erect nipples in the way that he fingered blessed, holy, rosary beads. In the way his mother was exquisitely beautiful, he imagined her big, shapely, naked breasts being exquisitely beautiful too.

'Behold my mother's big tits,' he imagine exclaiming.

Imagining that seeing her naked breasts were a religious experience, as if taking the Eucharist in his mouth, he imagined lowering his lips to his mother's breasts and taking her nipples between his lips, first one and then the other. While still masturbating her by rubbing her clit her through her panties with one hand, he continued feeling and fondling her big tits while fingering her nipples with his other hand. As if she was having a sexy dream, he watched her naked nipples erecting bigger in the way that his cock grew harder.

Still not done undressing her yet, while praying to Saint Valentine that his mother didn't awaken, as if she was a drugged and/or a drunken coed at a frat party, he imagined ever so slowly removing his mother's panties. The pièce de résistance, gradually easing them down lower, he imagined exposing the top of her blonde, trimmed pubic hair to his horny, incestuous eyes. While watching her closed eyes in hopes that she didn't awaken, he continued easing down her panties until her entire pussy was revealed. Then, ever so gently, he removed her panties from her legs, ankles, and feet.

'Naked, naked, naked, my mother is naked,' he imagined thinking. 'Naked, naked, naked, I can't believe I'm finally seeing my mother naked,' he imagined saying.

While hoping that she'd remain soundly sleeping, he couldn't wait to have some sexy, naked fun with his mother. Even though he thought undressing her would be enough and even though he thought he'd never sexually take advantage of his sleeping mother by having sex with her, he couldn't wait to have sex with her. Besides, nothing more than a sexual fantasy, an opportunity of a lifetime, he'd be nuts not to have sex with his mother.

As if he was ready to have her own religious experience by giving his mother communion with his tongue, he imagined gently and stealthily spreading his mother's long, shapely legs and taking the most holy of holies, her pussy, in his mouth. Gently and stealthily licking her pussy while fingering her pussy, as if he was her Holy Father instead of her horny son, once she was wet enough, he imagined anointing his mother with his hard, erect cock. Now that she was naked and prepped for sex, he couldn't wait to make love to her. Now that she was soundly sleeping, as if she was having a drunken dream, he couldn't wait to fuck her.