My Mom's Feet Put Me in Therapy

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

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Amid the very uncomfortable silence, my eyes wandered, carefully, as to not meet Sharon's curious gaze. I was beginning to almost feel accustomed to these awkward quiet moments, week to week these sex therapy appointments seemed to repeat themselves, the shaky dialogue between Sharon and I dropping off at the same points every appointment.

I didn't believe I actually needed therapy, but I was really a bit too embarrassed to fight my mom in the issue after what she had caught me doing with her stiletto sandals a few months back. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a creep, I don't find my mom sexually attractive. But, she is objectively very beautiful, especially for her early 40's. She takes great care of her body, way up from her pretty head, all the way down to her delicate little toes.

So, long story short, one night after she came home after a date, presumably dancing, she kicked off her shoes at the door and passed out barefoot on the couch within minutes (or so I had thought). I don't really know what came over me, but seeing my mom's glistening, pink soles hanging off of the arm rest excited me in a way I had never felt before. My nose was pressed up against the damp toe imprints on her leather stiletto sandal before I even realized what I was doing. It felt so wrong, but mom's feminine foot scent on the worn in leather drove me crazy. I must've not been able to hear her get up off the couch over my loud sniffs, because only a moment later and there she was, only a few feet away, staring wide eyes and horrified at the sight before her. And that's how I ended up here, sitting uncomfortably in an armchair, counting down the minutes until Sharon (my therapist) would stop asking me about why I liked my Mom's feet.

I stole a quick glance at the clock which was positioned seemingly tactfully directly above Sharon. Only a couple of minutes left, then I can leave this psychological torture chamber, finally. Sharon must have sensed my relief. Because for the first time in several minutes she spoke.

"Today is actually going to be a double session."

My heart sank. She continued.

"I have been talking to your Mother, I told her I didn't think our therapy sessions so far have been very effective for you."

I could only stare and nod in agreement. Maybe this won't be so bad, I thought. She must have picked up by now, after our 5 or 6 sessions, that I didn't need the therapy after all. Maybe she'll even recommend to my Mom that this be our last session?

Sharon swivelled a couple feet over to her desk, grabbed a small but thick manilla envelope, and returned.

"I made a recommendation to your Mother last week that we try a different approach with your.. special case."

Sharon paused, as if thinking to herself the best way to continue. Her hesitation was new, I had never heard her speak so carefully.

"I believe- *Ahem* I think that exposure therapy would be very helpful for you, it could allow you, after a few more session, to finally rid yourself of your wrong sexual feelings."

And with that, Sharon opened the envelope, and pulled out a small, compressed plastic baggy, filled with the contents that I instantly recognized.

"What the hell? No? This has to be a joke!" I shouted.

Frustration flowed through me freely. This was the first time I showed a real emotion to Sharon. Her eyes lit up.

"See? Six weeks of sessions, and I could barely get you to talk, and we haven't even officially started your exposure therapy, and you're already on the verge of a breakthrough!"

Sharon continued to praise me for sharing my emotional state with her while she dangled the plastic bag containing my Mom's dirty gym socks in front of me. The same pink ankle socks with white polka dots at the toes which she had worked out in every day that week. I noticed mud week she was wearing the same pair as the morning prior while she was leaving for her morning run, but didn't dare to comment.

Sharon held out her hand and motioned for me to take the bag.

"Your mother loves you very much, she just wants you to have a normal, healthy sex life. She is doing so much for you right now, you really should give it a try. She is!" Sharon added.

Sharon held the plastic baggy extended toward me for a few moments before I reluctantly reached forward and snatched it from her.

This didn't feel right, it's my Mom for God's sake! I looked down into the clear plastic ziplock baggy and could see the socks were visibly sweaty. Small beads of moisture collected in the corners. The slightly dirty, damp pink, polka-dotted socks should have disgusted me. But as I broke free from my Mom's dirty gym socks hypnosis, I realized I was springing an erection, and Sharon noticed, literally making a note of it on her yellow pad of paper.

I did my best to cover it, and attempted to speak, but after a couple seconds of painful stuttering, Sharon cut me off.

"Here is what you are going to do."

Sharon was now speaking with a bolder demeanor than before.

"Unbutton your pants, give yourself some room, but please, do not touch yourself in my office, understood?"

I quickly nodded, and followed her instructions. My half erection began to grow in front of her, against my will, in this moment of absolute humiliation.

With a slight grin on her face, Sharon spoke once more.

"Now open the baggy. And from there, do what feels most natural."

Without hesitation, I zipped the small, clear plastic baggy open, and pulled out my Mom's stinky, drenched gym socks out, discarding the bag onto floor.

"Oh my God.." I let out involuntarily.

Sharon was quick to make a note of that, I would have asked her not to, but at that point I no longer cared.

Mom's scent was instantly recognizable. Her light, strawberry citrus perfume permeated the room immediately upon opening the baggy. But as I held her well-worn dirty socks in my hands, something primal switched on in my brain. I pressed the toe areas of her sweaty socks up against my nose, and began to inhale viscously, like some sort of animal. A smell, much more natural than her perfume, and much more pungent, instantly surrounded me, pervading all of my senses. Complete and utter ecstasy. My entire body was rolling with pleasure as I became sexually intoxicated on my Mom's addicting, feminine foot stink. Every single sniff made my erection twitch.

I had almost forgotten Sharon was in the room, the sound of her pencil scratching furiously on her pad of notes was easily ignored in this moment of overwhelming bliss.

"Can you tell me specifically what it is you like most about how your Mom's feet smell?"

I had all but forgotten I was still in a therapy session still. The whole situation seemed surreal, I was sniffing my Mom's stinky, sweaty socks while my erection throbbed and twitched uncontrollably in front of my intimidatingly attractive, young therapist. All the while my Mom sat just on the other side of the wall, probably reading a Good Housekeeping magazine.

I tried to put into words what I was feeling.

"My mom, she's so pretty.. And her feet, I can't believe it. It must be pheromones or something.."

I rubbed my Mom's socks, still wet with sweat, across my face. I felt a drip of pre-cum squirt up to the head and dribble down the head.

Sharon put down her pen for a moment and just observed, causing me to feel a bit self conscious, and I regained a sense of the situation. And lowered the socks from my face.

"What do your Mother's sweaty socks smell like? Describe the scent." Sharon asked, as scientifically as possible.

I took one of the socks in both hands, I stretched the fabric at the end, the visibly dirty area with white polka-dots, and dug my nose in deep before inhaling.

"Mmmhhh.." I let out an involuntary orgasmic moan.

"Strong white cheddar popcorn infused with her strawberry citrus perfume, sweat, and her intoxicating *Sniiiiff* feminine essence.. "

I continued to sniff, I was approaching an orgasm without even touching myself. My mom's foot scent filled my nose and invaded my brain.

"Your mom is a very beautiful woman, and it's completely natural to become excited by a beautiful woman's scent, her sweat, her pheromones.."

Sharon paused.

"I think you just need to get it out of your system. A few real sessions with your Mom, and you'll be able to move on to other, more appropriate women."

I did not know exactly what Sharon meant by sessions with Mom, but I was too sexually high to care. I was nearing orgasm, about to cum burst after burst to the smell of my Mom's foot funk. I noticed out of the corner of my eye Sharon was no longer in her seat, I don't know when she left and I didn't particularly care. I quickly slipped my Mother's sweaty pink sock over my now red, throbbing erect dick. Immediately I felt weak in the knees, I was about to explode. I pressed my nose into the dirty polka-dotted toe prints of my Mom's other week-worn running sock and began to hump my fist with her other sock on my cock. On the third thrust I lost it.

" Ohhhhh God... Mommy's feet.." I moaned as burst after burst of hot cum shot into my Mom's cute, stinky pink sock. My cock head pressed up against the toe prints, and cum bursts oozed out as fast as I pumped them in. It only took seconds for the overwhelming scent that now covered me completely to turn into a source of disgust.

Oh my God, what have I done, I though to myself. Every breath I took, my mom's dirty socks overwhelmed my senses. I got up out of my chair, and turned around about to head to the bathroom, but instead I was greeted by two wide eyes women standing on the other side of the open doorway. My heart stopped.

My mom looked at me in horror, Sharon placed her hand on Mom's shoulder.

"As you can see, I've made a lot of progress today with your son."

They both continues to stare at me, my pants still around my ankles, my Mother's dirty pink gym sock, dripping with cum, still on my shrinking penis. I wanted to die.

Sharon turned to Mom.

"I'll give you some exercises you can do with your son at home, I have a feeling he is going to be ready for one by the time you two get home."

Sharon smiled, and turned toward me.

"I look forward to next week, were going to make so much progress!"