Mom & Son's Valentine's Day Sex Ch. 03

Not just the peck that he gave her when she stood beneath the mistletoe on Christmas, he'd part her lips with his tongue and French kiss her. Not just the peck he gave her on New Year's Eve, he'd part her lips with his tongue and French kiss her. Then, not just the peck that he just gave her for Valentine's Day, he'd part her lips with his tongue and French kiss her. If she wasn't his mother, he'd take her in his arms and kiss her deep and long with sexual passion while touching her and feeling her everywhere through her clothes.

Too bad she was his mother. If she wasn't his mother, he'd have sex with her. Different from any woman he had ever intimately known, he couldn't imagine what it would feel like to have sex with someone who was as beautiful, as kind, as loving, and as sexy as she was. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to undress her while kissing her, touching her, and feeling her in all the places he wished he could touch and feel her. He could only imagine what it would feel like to deliberately expose his erect prick to her again with the hopes that she'd touch it, stroke it, suck it, and fuck it this time instead of just staring.

Whenever he masturbated, he imagined making out with her while touching her, feeling her, and undressing her. Whenever he masturbated, he imagined seeing her in her panties and bra, topless, and/or naked. Whenever he masturbated, he imagined seeing, feeling, and sucking her naked breasts. Whenever he masturbated, he imagined fingering her naked pussy while licking her naked pussy. Whenever he masturbated, he imagined her hand stroking him and her mouth sucking him. Whenever he masturbated, he imagined making love to her before fucking her. Only, she was his mother and he needed to stop having those incestuous thoughts of being sexually intimate with her.

'That's just wrong,' he thought. 'That's just nasty for me to think of my mother in such a sexual way. What the Hell is wrong with me? Why do I sexually want my mother when she doesn't sexually want me? If she said yes to incestuous sex, could I go through with it and have forbidden sex with my mother?'

She looked at him looking at her and smiled.

"Sorry for spoiling the holiday," she said with sadness after a long pause.

With her falling silent and him daydreaming about having sex with her, she awakened him from the sexual fantasy he was having of her being his lover.

"There's no need to feel sorry, Mother. I understand," he said with compassion.

* * * * *

While giving him a quick flash of her white panties when uncrossing her legs, she stood from the couch and walked to the wine rack and set two wineglasses on the coffee table. Knowing that she'd flash him her panties again and again, he had adjusted the lampshade behind him previously, before she entered the living room and before she sat across from him. Now, with the light shining on her crotch to illuminate the triangular patch of her white panties, he had a clear view of her panty clad pussy. Normally, it would be too dark to see what he wanted to see of his mother between her legs but now it was if she had a spotlight on her pussy.

She opened a bottle of wine and poured him a glass before pouring herself a glass. Then, when she leaned at the waist in front of him to pour him his wine, she gave him a flash of her long, line of sexy cleavage and her low-cut, white bra. Just like that, images he never tired of seeing, first his mother flashed him her panties in an up-skirt peek, then she flashed him long line of sexy cleavage, and low-cut bra in a down-blouse view. He was tempted to reach his horny hand down his mother's low-cut blouse and fondle her breasts and finger her nipples through her bra.

She took her seat on the couch again while deliberately or unintentionally flashing him her panties again. He stared at her while she took a long, thoughtful sip of her wine before speaking. Glad that she was the one who opened the wine, maybe his thought of getting her drunk and kissing her while feeling her through her clothes may be his reality. Only, he wouldn't want to get her drunk enough to be sick, just feeling good enough to relax her sexual inhibitions, morality, and modesty. Normally, it only took two glasses of wine for his mother to feel a little tipsy.

"Suddenly as if my life flashed before my eyes, I thought of past holidays and how happy I used to be," she said. With her elbows on her knees and holding her wineglass with both hands, she leaned forward in her seat to make eye contact with him. He wondered if she was aware that she was giving him another down-blouse view of her cleavage and bra. "These last four months with the snow and the cold, and with Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, and Valentine's Day, used to be my favorite times of the year. Now, as if I'm being tortured by the memories of them, I dread celebrating them," she said falling sadly, silent again.

Obviously, the reason for her sadness, she was thinking about her ex-husband, his father, again. Even though they've been divorced for years, she couldn't go the entire year without thinking of him. Setting her off with every birthday, anniversary, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, or Valentine's Day, whenever she thought of his father, she became sad. Something that she obviously needed psychological therapy to get over, he wished he could take the place of his father. He wished he could hold her, comfort her, kiss her, and have sex with his mother in the way that she obviously missed having sex with her ex-husband.

"It's been years, Mom," he said with patient understanding. "He's gone and he's not returning. You need to get over him. You need to get on with your life. He's living his life married to a whore of a woman half his age and seemingly they're happy living in their surrogate father and surrogate daughter, sexual lunacy. I'm sorry I ever brought Jessica in this house. With you having no way to compete with someone as young and as slutty, just as she dumped me for him, he stupidly dumped you for her. I get that, but you need to find someone else to love," he said as if he was her psychiatrist instead of her son.

Just as his mother was a better person than her ex-husband, he was a better person than his ex-girlfriend. Good riddance. Yet, with him just as sexually attracted to his mother as was his mother still in love with her ex-husband, and as he still harbored some modicum of sexual feelings for his ex-girlfriend, he could have been giving himself advice. Yet, even though he said that she should find someone, he didn't want his mother finding anyone else to love. He wanted her to love him in that sexually forbidden way. He wanted her to have sex with him and not with someone else.

If anyone needed to get over anyone, with him already over his ex-girlfriend, he needed to get over the inappropriately love that he had for his mother for the past six years, since he turned 18-years-old, when his father left. It wasn't normal for a son to love his mother in that sexual way. It wasn't normal to think that she loved him in the sexual way that he loved her. Just as it wasn't normal for his mother to watch him masturbating, it wasn't normal for him to deliberately flash his mother his erect prick, masturbate, and cum in front of her.

'Yet, she stayed to watch me stroke myself. She stayed to listen to me tell her how much I wanted to have sex with her. She stayed to watch me cum, when she could have and should have left my room as soon as she saw me masturbating,' he thought. 'Even more incestuously bizarre than that, I sexually aroused her by my masturbation show.'

Nonetheless his mother becoming sexually excited over watching him stroking his cock, he needed to stop this mother and son lunacy of hoping to have incestuous sex with her. He needed to stop sexually fantasizing over her. He needed to stop masturbating over the thoughts of her naked and having sex with her. Just as he'd never be allowed to see her naked and touch and feel her naked body, she'd never have sex with him. She'd never make him her lover. Unlike his mother who was nothing like her son, his mother wasn't the incestuous pervert that he was.

Jealous of the love his mother still had for his father, he wished his mother would think of him in the way that she continued thinking of her asshole of an ex-husband. Yet, with him controlled by the incestuous perversion that he felt for his mother, any guidance he gave her was not only twisted but also laced with the incestuous lust that he had for her in his sexual frustration. Because of the sexually inappropriate way he felt about her, it was impossible for him to disassociate himself from his immoral feelings and lustful desires to give her unbiased advice.

Then, continuing his incestuous lunacy, he thought about something that may work for both. If only she viewed him as her lifeline from divorce until she started a new life with someone else, he'd love to fill the role as her sexual rebound. He'd love to make her emotionally happy and sexually satisfied until she found someone else to love. If only his mother shared the incestuous lust he had for her, he could make her happy, if even for only for a little while until she found another lover and until he found someone to love and perhaps even marry.

He'd give her enough orgasms with his fingers, his mouth, and his cock for her to forget her ex-husband. Hopefully, she'd give him enough sexual orgasms with her hand, her mouth, and her pussy to stop him from masturbating. As convoluted as it sounded when he wasn't stroking his prick while thinking of his mother naked and having sex with her, he was thinking of her not as his mother but as his lover. If only he could have sex with her, he would have sex with her. He wished he could make his mother his lover. He wished he could make his mother his whore, his sexual slave, and his cum slut.

Only, a son soliciting his mother for sex, how would he even suggest that without her thinking that there was something wrong with him? How could he possibly persuade someone who was as morally modest and as somewhat religious as she was to have sex with him? Then, even if she agreed to be his incestuous lover, how would he dare go through with having sex with her without her thinking that he was perverted for wanting to have sex with his mother? Sadly, as much as he wanted her sexually, she didn't want him sexually. She'd never have sex with him in the way that he wanted to have sex with her.

"I know and you're right. I need to find a man to love," she said giving him another soft, sad smile. "I can't. I just can't. The thoughts of pretending to love another man turns my stomach. Your father was the only man I was with sexually. I was a virgin when I married him," she said looking up at him as if she was about to cry.

Then, instead of crying, she smiled as if proud of her virginity. She smiled as if she was contently happy being alone and instead of feeling terminally sad that she had no one in her life but her incestuously, perverted son. Only, with her having wasted buckets full of tears over his father, her smiles weren't fooling him. Knowing her better than that and with her unable to fool him, she was far from happy. He knew she was hurting inside. She was sad and was the saddest around the holidays.

'She needs to get laid,' he thought. 'She needs to have a sexual orgasm. She needs me to finger and lick her pussy before making love to her cunt and before fucking her cunt. She needs to stroke my cock while sucking my cock. As if my cum is her much needed magic elixir and medicine, she needs me to cum in her mouth. For her to smile her sexual satisfaction, she needs to swallow my cum.'

Enjoying the thought that the answer to her problems was to have sex, he'd love to volunteer his sexual services to her. Only, everything he thought about having sex with his mother was as ridiculous as it was improbable. She'd never have sex with him. He had a better chance of having sex with a nun than he did having sex with his mother. How dare he even harbor the incestuous thoughts of having sex with his sadly depressed and still distraught mother?

'Mom, you need to get laid,' he imagined saying to her. 'You need a sexual orgasm,' he said while imagining whipping his cock for her to stroke, suck, and fuck. 'After you allow me to lick and finger you pussy, after you allow me to make love to you before fucking you, you need to blow me, Mom. To take your mind off Dad, you need to suck my cock. As if my cum is the vitamins that you need to make you happy again, allowing me to cum in your mouth will make you feel better. I know it will and you won't know until you try,' he imagined willing to say anything to have sex with is mother.

He imagined her looking at him with sexual excitement.

'Michael, 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 do 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. While fucking you hard and fast, I'd love nothing more than to bang the top of your blonde, pretty head against the headboard while watching your naked breasts bouncing up and down and swaying side to side,' he thought. 'I'd love nothing more than for you to scream my name in orgasmic bliss. I'd love nothing more than for you to suck my cock and allow me to cum in your beautiful mouth.'

Yet, just as he'd never say any of those things to his mother, she'd never think any of those things of 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, his horniness, his sexually frustration, and his incestuous attraction to his mother, 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 while masturbating himself.

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 by exposing his erect, naked penis to her and giving her a masturbation show, 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 when she was drunk. 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 in the way she did on her wineglass, lipstick on the dipstick, he'd love for his mother to leave her bright, red lipstick on his cock. If she left her 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, he knows that she masturbates herself. He knows that she was obviously sexually aroused by seeing his naked, erect prick and 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.

Perhaps, 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. He'd love nothing more than to give his mother a cum bath.

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.

'Oh, my God, how hot would that be to watch a porn movie with my Mom while masturbating my mother and my mother masturbating me,' he thought?

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.