Mom Swap: Love Your Mother Right

"My door on the left, okay. And the mask, yes."

"Great," he said as he walked over and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Whatever happens next, my friend, I hope you have a good time and don't forget this night for a long time."

"I hope so," I said. Connor was especially excited at this point as if he was about to meet the goddess of fertility and love herself.

He quickly exited, heading for the shower and leaving me alone in the room.

Things didn't turn out the way I'd imagined. I wasn't in control at all and Connor was acting way too weird.

I stared dumbly into the mask. "What on earth is this book about?" I stood up and vaguely recalled where it was placed. A leather blue binding. "Yup, here it is." I pulled it out and opened it to the first page.

"Introduction: The Unconscious Bonds.

The psyche of a man is an labyrinth of thoughts, desires, and yearnings. We are molded by our experiences, especially those from the formative years of our childhood. Our mothers, the first women in our lives, shape our perceptions of femininity, love, and intimacy in ways that often escape our conscious awareness.

'Kyriake's Style: The Right Way To Love Your Mother' is a journey to unravel the subtle yet potent psychological forces at play in these relationships and to shed light on why men, time and again, find themselves attracted to women who mirror their mothers.

The quest to understand why men fall in love with their mothers is a complex and sensitive one. But remember, there is no one-size-fits-all answer to this age-old question. Love is a multifaceted gem, and every facet refracts its own unique light. As we unravel the mysteries, we may find that the answers are as diverse as the individuals who seek them. So, let us begin our journey into the enigmatic world of motherly love and its profound influence on the hearts of men.

In the enigmatic landscape of human emotions and relationships, there exists a peculiar and often mystifying phenomenon -- a profound connection between men and the women who raised them. We are all familiar with the age-old concept of the Oedipus Complex, but our journey into the realm of understanding why men fall in love with their mothers delves far deeper than the Greek tragedies that inspired Freud's theories.

Chapter 1: A City Unlike Any Other

In the heart of ancient Greece, nestled between rolling hills and the shimmering Aegean Sea, there existed a city unlike any other. It was a place where traditions, societal norms, and the boundaries of love had taken on forms that would baffle even the most open-minded of outsiders. This city was known as Kyriake.

Kyriake was a unique society that held dear one fundamental principle: the freedom of love. Here, love knew no bounds, no restrictions, no judgment. It was a city where people were free to marry anyone, regardless of age, gender, or even familial ties.

In a world where other city-states adhered to strict social structures and rigid rules, Kyriake embraced a radical notion. The people here believed that love was a force too potent, too pure to be regulated by man-made constraints. Love, they insisted, should be bound only by the natural inclinations of the heart.

But among the myriad of love stories that unfolded within the city, one peculiar trend emerged. Men, young and old, would often choose to marry the women they were most intimately connected to from birth - their own mothers.

This phenomenon perplexed scholars and philosophers from neighboring cities, who would visit Kyriake in an attempt to understand this curious practice. It wasn't that the men of Kyriake were forbidden from marrying other women; quite the contrary, they were free to marry anyone they chose. Yet, the city's customs had led many men to gravitate towards matrimony with their mothers, a bond typically reserved for lovers. It was a riddle that defied explanation, one that had become the subject of countless tales and legends throughout the ages.

The residents believed in the cyclical nature of love and believed that, in marrying a mother, a son would finally return the love he had received as a child.

Men engaged in passionate intimacy with mothers, making love to them, replacing fathers, cherishing each moment as they would with any other woman, their connection more fervent and their desires more intense than with any other partners. In the warmth of their embrace, new life was conceived.

Why was it happening?

The residents of Kyriake were much like people everywhere else. Deep within their minds, the primal instinct to seek an ideal partner prevailed, an instinct sculpted by eons of evolution. This primal drive, buried deep within the recesses of our brains, perpetually sought those with the greatest fertility and reproductive capabilities, aiming to produce as many healthy offspring as possible.

In our quest to ensure the continuation of our species, it was only logical to gravitate towards those who had already demonstrated their fertility and birthing prowess. For millennia, our mothers, by virtue of their proven fertility and the capacity to bring forth healthy progeny, inevitably represent the epitome of these qualities. It was this very wisdom that our subconscious minds seemed to inherently grasp, leading us to be drawn to women who bore a resemblance to our mothers, thus positioning them as ideal partners.

However, Kyriake's inhabitants enjoyed a unique privilege that set them apart. In their extraordinary corner of the world, societal norms did not frown upon the notion of a deep and abiding love for one's mother. This unique freedom granted by their culture allowed their brains to explore an easier and, in their eyes, the most ideal path to love and commitment. Their members found themselves at liberty to embrace the most straightforward and ideal path to fulfilling these ancient instincts: the act of matrimony with their very own mothers. Kyriake's people discovered a harmonious equilibrium between the primal impulses that reside deep within their collective psyche and the societal acceptance of their actions.

Instead, it took the form of an open and fearless embrace, where sons willingly and consciously chose to marry the women who had given them life, nourished them, and taught them the values of love. They would marry their mothers, make love to them and produce children.

In the pages that follow, we'll explore the lives, the loves, and the secrets of the inhabitants of Kyriake, as we embark on a journey into a world where tradition and convention take a back seat to the extraordinary nature of the human heart."

The sound of the door opening in the hallway brought me back to earth. Connor seemed to be just finishing up with his shower.

"What did I just read," was my first thought. I immediately closed the book and returned it to where I had taken it from. After which I headed to the shower room, not forgetting my mask.

The whole time in the shower I couldn't stop thinking about the book. Sons who marry their mothers? Is that true? Why would a book like that even be in Connor's room? And why was it lying on the bed?

I pushed all my thoughts away and tried to focus on reality. And the reality was that I was in for a hot night with Connor's mother.

I wore my mask, wrapped myself in a towel, and walked out into the hallway

"Left or right door?" I was peering through the mask at the doors. "Left."

Here it was, the decisive hour. I opened the door, light from the lamp on the nightstand illuminated part of the room. I shut the door.

Someone moved on the bed, and through the faint light I made out her - short shoulder-length hair and her face hidden by that stupid mask. She covered herself with the blanket and beckoned me with her finger. With a sudden movement, she pulled the blanket down exposing two beautiful bare breasts.

Her boobs would barely fit in the palm of my hand. Clara's swollen nipples were waiting for me, and I could see every detail, every little thing. She shook them slightly waiting for me.

I couldn't believe my eyes. I wanted so badly to take off the mask and kiss them, but I remembered Connor's words. If I took the mask off, I'd ruin everything. Her tits were better than I'd ever imagined. Tight, firm, fleshy, with swollen pink nipples.

My cock rose immediately.

I moved closer and reached out, grabbing one tit with my hand. It was heavenly bliss. My first breast, so soft, so incredible. The pleasure made my head spin and I almost fell over. My towel fell away, exposing my cock, and at that moment her fingers encircled it. I recognized the red manicure and gasped with pleasure.

She gently tightened the skin, with other hand rubbing my balls and scrotum. The pleasure made me dizzy again. But I'm not here for just a handjob. I was ready to fuck her so badly.

I pulled out a condom and put it on my cock in front of her, then joined Ms Yellow under the blanket. It was awkward at first, I climbed between her legs, discerning the outline of her vagina in the dim light. I gasped again as she straddled my cock and guided it in between her legs.

My tip suddenly hit something soft. "Finally, a pussy." The sensation was strange, the tip was immediately swallowed up by the flesh and it fell inside.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," I pressed my lip together, holding back a moan. Finally, I was inside Ms. Yellow. She removed her hand and eased onto her back, giving me the chance. I moved my hips, entering deeper, keeping my eyes on her boobs and nipples.

The gentle sensations enveloped my cock as I moved deeper, and deeper, and deeper. The sensations were divine. Until I pushed to the end and my balls touched her ass. I was fully inside.

Unbelievable. This is so much better than a hand. Even through the condom I could feel the warmth of her pussy. I didn't want to move, I just wanted to stay inside as long as possible, savor the moment.

And yet, through the heavenly bliss, I felt in the crust of my head like something was wrong. I felt as though I've crossed a critical boundary, like a bright red line that I must halt at this very moment. Maybe that how you feel when you lose virginity?

She was rubbing my hair as her vagina tightened on my cock. I moved back and entered her again with a mad jerk, moving back and forth, I felt like I had already cum, because it felt soo good. Her vagina was perfect.

I pulled out again and entered, beginning to fuck her. Her insides greedily gripped my cock, not wanting to let go. Ms. Yellow was writhing in pleasure while I squeezed her breasts with all my might.

That bitch was really hungry for cock.

I pushed my cock in as deep as I could, reaching all the way to her uterus, pulling out and thrusting in again. My other hand was pushing her legs apart to the limit, her pubic hair rubbing my cock and groin.

I increased the pressure, gripping her arms, thrusting in and out furiously. Sex had no right to be this good. I kept fucking, ravaging her vagina. The same one Connor had come from. The condom was completely filled with my pre-cum. I used all the power in my hips, trying as if to pound her through with my cock. Her tight vagina was driving me crazy, squeezing me.

But I needed more. I slowly pulled my cock out, falling on her. With one hand, the other still spreading her thighs, I removed the condom tossing it aside. At that moment I could have sworn Clara could see everything, and she didn't mind at all, and was even in favor.

I went in bare again, feeling everything real now. And, oh Gods. It was incredible. That's what real sex is.

As I reached the end, a bizarre feeling began to envelop me again, growing stronger with each move. I could not understand what was happening. I wondered why my mind was resisting the simple pleasure of the moment. Just let me fuck her.

The sound of spanking was like music to my ears, the faint light gently illuminated her nipples, she rubbed them as she sensed me squeezing them furiously. Every jerk made them shake, Clara squirmed, giving herself completely to me, going through orgasm, restrained by the mask's rules.

I began to enter even more vigorously, feeling every fiber of my cock in pleasure. I wished it would never end. I didn't care what Connor said. I'm going to get his mother pregnant, I'm going to cum inside her.

I entered furiously again, breathing heavily, I definitely lacked stamina. His Mom is perfect, I'm not going to let anything stop me from cumming in her. As the orgasm slowly approached, I was overcome with pleasure, tinged with a touch of sadness because I knew this amazing moment would soon be over.

I bounced in and out furiously as the bed bounced and shook with me. Clara gave herself to me completely, running her nails with red manicure over my back, my hair, scratching my skin. I stared through the glass of the mask into her eyes, ready to put my seed in her. I was more ready than ever.

Meanwhile, my brain continued to do battle with me. The feeling of insane pleasure as my cock penetrated her warm pussy was sometimes replaced by a strange nauseating discomfort.

"Ohhhh," I barely held back a scream, all my balls and guts preparing to meet the inevitable orgasm. Despite the flashes of nausea, which I wrote off to the insane pleasure and my first time, I owed it to her to fill her with my cum. That perfect vagina. As that book said, we look for partners who will be perfect for our progeny. Here it is, the perfect cunt. The best one. If I had the chance, I'd fuck that vagina for the rest of my life.

I increased the speed, and she groaned, twisting under my pressure, her tits shaking wildly, driving me crazy, she tried to hold back a moan, throwing her head back, clawing at my back.

I jerked, my balls clenched. It hurt, I put my cock in as deep as I could with a sharp jerk, hitting her ass with my balls. "Ughhh."

And here it goes.

I tried not to scream, but the hot cum straight from my balls rushed in, I went in as deep as I could and deeper and deeper, and in that moment first stream of cum went all the way inside her, then again and against straight into her womb.

I thought I was dead, I felt a wild pleasure combined with the sensation of fulfilling my primordial duty, of reproduction. My hips shook as my cock emitted the entire contents of my balls directly into Ms. Yellow, into her perfect womb. My hand clutched her breasts painfully, scratching them, digging my nails into her breasts, but it was as if Ms Yellow didn't care.

She was enjoying the moment as much as I was. Waves of orgasm continued to fill my brain, rewarding me for what I'd done, for picking the perfect fuck partner. I was cumming long and profusely, my twitching cock inside her shooting out more and more doses of white semen, it all lasted forever for me.

Finally, I stopped seeing angels, my balls slowly lowered, and my wet cock began to wilt and dropped. I was unable to move, unable to even take a breath.

Droplets of blood remained on my fingers, I ripped the skin on Clara's nipple to the blood.

She gently, almost maternally, rubbed my hair, my arm, and my buttocks.

It was over, and I had no regrets.

I rolled away, falling beside her. My flaccid cock fell out of the slimy vagina full of my cum. I was insanely sleepy, and tired after the tremendous work I had done.

But the drowsiness was suddenly gone when I heard the voice. "I didn't know you were such a passionate lover," she said under the mask. I was still muffled from my orgasm, the voice seemed familiar, maybe It was only my imagination, maybe I was crazy, or maybe what I heard was true.

We lay under the blanket and my brain suddenly disobeyed me, as did my body. I got up, not wanting to face what might be waiting for me next, picked up my towel, and ran out of the room, closing the door.

I only came to my senses when I was on the porch. I could smell smoke. Connor was standing there in a light robe with a ciggarette.

"So how was it? Did you do it?" he asked.

I rubbed my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. It was unreal. Better than I could have even imagined. Just crazy."

"Yeah," he said with a smirk, taking another puff. "I can't believe it finally happened either."

Finally. Why does he use that word? Finally. Has he really been dreaming about my Mom for so long?

"I cum inside. Went against what you said and I did it all inside," I blurted out without thinking.

Connor just smirked, tilting his head in different directions. "Mark... I told you not to." He snuffed out his cigarette, and from the expression on his face, it seemed like something was dawning on him.

"Now you're going to have a brother or sister," I smiled like crazy.

"No, Mark. You are going to have a brother or sister," Connor said, getting closer.

"What? What are you talking about?" I almost fell over, holding the towel around my waist.

"It was your Mom."

The light hit my face, I felt dizzy, and my balls and cock ached like they'd been hit with a bat.

"What?" I repeated exactly the same way as if I hadn't heard the answer. I leaned my arm against the wall, trying to figure out why the world was spinning before my eyes. "My Mom? But..."

"It was your Mom, Mark," said Connor.

I felt like someone who had been hit by a devastating loss, yet the full impact hadn't sunk in. "No, I was..."

"I lied to you, Mark. You were in the room with your mother, not mine."

It couldn't be. I would have realized it. I would have recognized my Mom under the mask. And I would never have sex with her.

"You're lying," I instinctively replied. It was one of the stages of acceptance.

Had I really had sex with my Mom? And not just sex, I filled her with my seed.

"No, Mark. I've wanted to fuck my mother since I was 14. Like my grandfather did. And then finally I came up with the perfect idea. I started trying to look like you, got my hair done, and put on some weight. Next, I tried to please your mother. I found out what color nails she liked so I could give her a red nail polish gift. I was trying to gain her trust so she'd like me. Then I convinced my Mom to get a haircut like yours. Then I suggested the whole mother's idea to you. All so I could spend the night with my Mom, who'd think you were fucking her. But it was me. Meanwhile, you were fucking yours."

"So that's what the masks are for," I whispered.

"My Mom wasn't a fan of masks, so I made a bet with her. I said, 'If Mark's Mom agrees to it, then so will you.' We were sitting at the table, and I started getting nervous, thinking my plan might go wrong. But you convinced your Mom to wear the mask, and everything went smoothly. I'm really sorry, Mark. It was my only shot."

"You're messed up. You're sick, Connor. Gods." I was still holding onto the wall, preparing to fall. My cock seemed about to shrink and fall off.

"But you enjoyed it, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't realize... I didn't know... Oh, God."

"Your instincts did. Your body did. It was a perfect sex."

"You are sick," I said again. "I saw that book, about that mother-son nonsense..."

"You should read it. It was after I read it that I decided to do it. I thought long and hard about my options and my plan. At 13, I found out my grandfather lived in this house with his mother alone. You can imagine what they were doing here. That's when I started thinking about my Mom, we lived here alone. And at 14 I realized for the first time that I wanted to fuck her."

I didn't listen to his story. I was still coming to my senses. He was right about one thing - the sex was incredible.

"You're going back to your room now, Mark. Change your clothes. Your Mom is probably asleep by now. Tomorrow morning, tell her you went back to her room after your night with Ms. Yellow. Tomorrow you're gonna pretend it was what it looked like. You were with my Mom, I was with yours. Do you understand?"