My Son, Mr. Hyde

After I brushed my teeth and washed my face, I left the bathroom and casually paused at the top of the steps to hear which movie he was watching. Padding down the hallway barefooted, the unmistakably cheezy music and stilted dialog told me that it was some old, sleazy porno. He's stuck at home with his mom, he's been drinking, its late in the night and pouring outside, I'd be looking for something better, too. Well, he's a grown man and I couldn't help but to think that possibly, the intimate seductive contact between the two us just before I retreated may have triggered those lusty emotions in his youthful body and he only knew one way to responsibly act on them.

Even in my slutty mind, the obscene thought that he might be imagining my tits and my pussy as he watches some sexy porn actress perform, got my juices flowing again. I know that was an inappropriate thought, but I was feeling down and someone (anyone,) making me feel sexy and wanted would be appreciated. My body was warm from the bath and my pussy was heating up from my filthy thoughts. I was hopping back and forth, overcome by the raging need to have my aching cunt filled. And I couldn't escape the lewd, raunchy impression that maybe he was thinking about me as his sex-slut. My robe fell open and my hand was between my wet thighs, before I got in my room. It would probably be another frantic night in bed. A rather ominous roll of thunder rocked the house as I crawled between the sheets.

It was a restless night. The thunder and lightning continued to add drama to the lascivious images dancing in my brain. There was little chance that I would fall peacefully into dreamland. The volume of the TV was too low, but merely knowing what he was watching, brought the simple plots and the farfetched scenarios of debauchery to my bed. Just like the previous movie, I placed myself into the role of the female lead. The erotic sequences ran the gamut of me being chased by a masked man with a raging hard-on, my being sold into sexual slavery or compelled to strip and masturbate before a horny audience, or my family providing me as the entertainment at a bachelor's party. I was always being commanded in some way and my clothes often hung in tatters from my trembling frame. In my fitful sleep, I experienced vulgar orgasms or was moaning and writhing in ecstasy like a bitch in heat. Interestingly (or menacingly,) all of the men in these quick scenes looked remarkably like my son. The images slowed a bit.

And then I felt suddenly protected and warm as if a comforting blanket enveloped me and the images morphed into a young couple laying on a towel in the sun of a sandy beach.

In my confused slumber, I felt the gentle rolling of the surf underneath me and a protective wrap to secure me. More dizzying changes. I was transported to a time when my young son, frightened by the roar of thunder, would sneak into my bed, trailing his teddy bear and curl-up behind me. Still asleep but rising toward wakefulness, I was lulled into a sensual seduction as the feeling of a big hand slipped between my moist thighs and I sensed my sensitive nipples being fondled and pinched. This erotic dream was like being suddenly naked in a men's locker room with the lights out. Hands pawed at me from all sides and wherever I turned, my pussy and ass were patted and spanked. Turned and examined, hands and tongues prodded at my bare body.

I was being groped and tweaked. I couldn't identify the attackers but for some reason, the probing became gentle and I was put at ease. I was not fighting or running. I accepted what was happening and permitted this exotic exploitation of my electrically charged torso. The fever intensified and my hunger grew. My orgasm was mounting and spasms racked my quivering cunt. The bed shook and I was totally exposed. The feeling was intoxicating. If I could have spoken, I would have begged for more and promised my obedience. The feeling was one like sticking a finger in a light socket. My body was alive with tingling jolts of energy. It all seemed wondrously mesmerizing yet terribly familiar.

The drowsiness still enveloped me as I was slowly gaining consciousness. But the dreamy enticement held-on tight. I warmed to the touch of a rough hand cupping and weighing my breast as I lay on my side, the hand resting in my heavy cleavage. It caressed my full, plump boob as the fingers tickled and tugged at my pert nipples. I wanted him to hold and squeeze them, making me shudder. Then I experienced the invasion of another deft hand parting the tingling lips of my wet labia. Still on my side and fighting to fully awaken, I ached to stretch and spread myself wide open for his entrance. Two bold fingers pried apart my tight contour and wedged themselves deep into my velvety sheath, pawing at the roof of my sodden pussy and searching for that mysterious spot. Approaching the brink of this erotic bliss, I was a willing supplicant pleading to be taken.

In my head it was a fairytale prince awakening me with his delicate touch while igniting a volcano in my cunt. I was moaning and shrieking-out my ecstatic approval but it only became audible as a series of hums and grunts. My pelvis began to shake and tremble under the unaccustomed intrusion and my thighs wanted to capture and hold this intimate intruder. My wanton cunt was on fire and I needed more... much more.

A quick grope in a closet on New Year's Eve, teenagers rolling around in the back seat of a car on prom night, a gangbang with me as the only woman; all of these fantasies in quick succession floated through the dream-like trance that held me hostage. "I'm here at your pleasure, use me as you like and I'll be your slave." It felt so good but appeared so kinky.

My brown eyes fluttered and my steamy anatomy was racked with the convulsions of a serious toe-curling climax that rippled through my quivering torso. I don't know if this was the first spasm of ecstasy or simply the next one in a tremendous series. I was lost in that mysterious void between fantasy and reality. I did know that my thighs were also being parted from behind and the unmistakable advance of a large object was plowing into the well-lubricated passage that was previously opened by those determined digits. I was being expanded to accept some impossible girth. It was stuffing my hot cavity and filling me completely. My body lurched forward as I was vigorously skewered from behind. With each powerful pump from his piston-like prick, my pliant body wobbled with my wet tits slapping together and my belly and thighs shaking. I moaned and whooped at every thrust. Vise-like talons gripped my waist and the bold organ thrust repeatedly inside my molten snatch. I was being pounded. And I was cumming!

Now that I was waking-up and beginning to realize that I was not alone in my bed; and that I was truly being groped, and it was more than just a mere fantasy-cock nudging its bulbous head into the slick but constricted entrance of my ravenous cunt, I had one last hazy second to comprehend exactly who was sliding his firm, fleshy organ into my squirming, desperate hole.

Nervously and in a confounding fog of wonder, I tepidly tilted my head to witness the reddened, strained face and vein-bulged neck of my determined son as his cheeks swelled and puffed like a steam engine and a river of sweat poured from his bare chest. The dark hair was soaked and plastered to his face. His coffee eyes were alternately wild-eyed and then clamped tightly shut and his halting breath were puffs of cool mist on my neck. His stubborn concentration as he worked, was a cross between determination to accomplish some extraordinary mission and the wily maneuver of a sneaky kid on "Devil's Night," not wanting to be found-out at his deception. However, I wanted to give him a big hug and a kiss.

Before I fully realized all of the obscene and debauched implications of this incestuous rape, I was still in the throes of the "big-O" that his skills and treachery had already generated. The sharp twitches continued to rattle my worn-out core. Whatever else happened in those sweaty minutes, the orgasms were oh-so real!

My tits were puffy and swollen under his forceful groping and the sensitive nips were purplish and chafed after so much twisting. My heart thumped in my chest and my vision was blurred. I was wrung-dry like a rag and could have curled-up and slept contentedly, but this action demanded that some adrenaline kick-in. I required some answers even if I would never believe them.

The deep throaty moans and the gasping squeals that I thought were voiced only in my dreams, must have encouraged his manly assault of his mother's wanton, writhing body. My thin cotton tank-top was damp, wrinkled and bunched-up under my chin, a casualty to his exploring hands while my tits bounced free. The satiny undies were stretched and the frilly hem torn, in the struggle to wrench them down my legs.

My pussy was a simmering lake and reddened from his strong hands clawing over my straining clit and the fingers that had poked and loosened my hungry cunt. The trimmed black pubic curls were sticky and matted from my own fluids and pearls of dew glistened on the distended folds of my labia. From my backside, the domed, rubbery head of his firm column was seesawing into my vibrating pussy, slamming me to the edge of the bed and making squishing, slapping sounds as he banged away. His plum-sized balls smacked against my plush ass, adding a demented rhythm to his assault on his mother's tingling anatomy.

There could be no misidentifying or excusing by accident, who and what was taking place. My son was raping me! There was a second thought that immediately followed, that seemed to hit me even harder. That I was not now- and not certain that I even wanted to- trying to really resist or to fight him off. I realized that my palm was grinding against my little exposed lump of flesh atop my hole, accentuating the jaw-dropping jolts that were landing like a sledge. He wedged one leg between mine and spread me wider, inching his throbbing erection ever deeper inside of me. I twisted my hips to ease his access. The motion had the power and speed of a jackhammer, filling my thin sheath with his throbbing lance. And I allowed him this access to my cunt while I strenuously rubbed and abraded my delicate pleasure button. A confusing, conflicted trove of emotions flooded me with the same force as his hardened cock plowing into me. Was I being raped or seduced?

His body stiffened against me and his grip intensified. I heard (or felt,) a violent grunt and he muttered the word, "FUUCCK." Then I felt it! A firehose exploding in my cunt. I was drenched in his seed and my pussy responded by letting loose. We both shook and I think we screamed, but it was all in a daze. I'd never experienced anything like it. It kept going and I kept shaking. Multi-orgasmic didn't begin to describe it. He poured his fiery essence into me and I wanted it all. He pumped his massive tool and I shuddered in delight. I lost the next five minutes, but gradually we recovered. His cock was still tightly seated in my pussy and he continued to rock me, but that was only youthful enthusiasm that I wasn't about to stop. But even he was shooting blanks now and would soon finish.

When I spied his big brown orbs shining with desire and heard the tremendous gusts of air escaping his lungs as if he'd just finished a race, accompanied by the grunts of pleasure that brought a triumphant grin to his usually smiling face; I knew that it was time to verbally express to him, some sort of recognition that though the physical act was wonderfully erotic to experience with him, there was a horribly taboo, illicit undercurrent that had to be acknowledged. But just which words are used to convey that idea?

Even if I had no blessed idea of what exactly was happening (and disregarding my extremely secret fantasies,) just how the hell was I going to talk about it? My son was fucking me! I was obviously excited by it (as he could readily see,) and enjoying the crudeness of it. And though I had been asleep and he snuck into my bed, naked and with a devious plan, there was no hiding the passion from both of us. After the initial plunge (no pun intended,) we were now literally joined at the hip. His sturdy cock had now bottomed-out in my sloppy-wet cunt, and he was plowing my fertile field. I was on the pill (one catastrophe avoided,) but I was still grinding and swishing my hips to get more of his big rod inside me. It seemed like an appropriate time to have a deep mother/son talk.

I couldn't exactly form convincing words yet, since I was still gulping for air and uttering low, horny moans of gratification. He continued to thrust his solid erection to the depths of my molten pussy and then slowly withdraw it to the tantalizing point where only the clinging, elastic lips of my inflamed snatch grasped at the enlarged crown of his alabaster rod. My excited expression and lack of obvious rebuke must have convinced him, that I was caught in his incestuous web.

We settled-in with him scooched to my butt. A sweaty, moaning, writhing mass of heaving flesh. His large hand was back to massaging my heavy rack and I placed my hand ontop of his, squeezing lightly and signaling to him that my body was his playground. My heart was in my throat wondering how to break this awkward semi-silence. I had to say something, and more than that, I needed to know what Scotty was thinking. Do I thank him? Do I blow him?

My sweat-drenched torso leans back against his hot, heaving chest. His spent organ slides out of my slit, purplish and vein covered. An oily droplet oozes from the fast-deflating tip and for the first time since this started, his energy has dipped. His heavy arms are balanced on my hips and one hand still kneads my breasts while the other casually strums the dank pubic hair at my triangle, as if he owns me and I'm his pet. Our warm bodies squish together as I burrow back into his muscular, domineering chest. It no longer seems to matter that I am his mother or that even with that, he asked for no permission and blatantly established that he'll take what he wants.

A small river of our combined juices seeps from between my legs. It had been years since I'd had such a forceful fucking. It was an experience that I kept locked-away in my private fuck-fantasies. Scotty rolled me over on my back and climbed between my still shaking knees. Then for the first time, took a long, unobstructed and unopposed look at my naked body. He bends forward and gently plants sweet kisses on both my forehead and chin but conspicuously not my lips. We were not in love, we were not even making love, this was sex- raunchy, debased, and incestuous. And we reveled in it.

He leaned down to my chest and pushed my plump tits together forming twin peaks of hot, moist flesh allowing him to lick and nibble the swollen tips and at the same time to re-start my moaning and re-ignite my passion. My hand slid to my crotch where he caught it and wrapped it around his soft, sticky pole. Scotty was now confident that I wouldn't refuse him. It was already reinflating and preparing for a second round. And I got my first thorough look at his amazing tool. It's no wonder that I was sore. OMG! It was fuckin' huge.

I was staring at his limpid tool as it smoothly expanded in my grip, seeming to double in size every second. It was purplish and throbbing, with spidery veins lacing the sides and thick around as my arm. His hand held mine while he guided me to stroke his glistening serpent until it grew to its full majestic girth and length. I needed no more encouragement as it filled my palm and my fingers gripping it, wouldn't touch. I imagine that the audible gasps and the wide-eyed awe, alerted him that I was his for the taking. We briefly paused and made serious eye-contact- lovingly, tenderly, but certainly establishing the new bounds of our relationship. I belonged to Scotty and would soon learn to obey his commands.

I'd been totally ravished, thoroughly fucked and completely embarrassed. And I merely continued to stare in a mortified stupor with my head bobbing to agree with each new suggestion. It started with me parting my legs and placing my ankles on his shoulders. He instructed me to position the spongey, domed head of his engorged cock towards the distended lips of my reddened gash, and with his cocoay-brown eyes watching my every move, I was told to feed his firm lance into my gaping pussy. I'd already had it in me; but this time, accepting it graciously and pushing it in with my own hand, I could not have signaled my surrender any more succinctly if I had written the word "slut" on my forehead. I arched my back and squeezed my hips, shoving his solid erection into the steaming depths of my wanton cunt.

I felt cheap simply laying on my back, tits flopping to the sides and rocking back and forth in a jumpy figure-eight pattern, while my jittery legs bounced on his broad shoulders. I couldn't have been much more wide open if I were strapped to a gyno's table. It seemed strange since he had already stripped me in my sleep; fingered me to orgasm, and then pounded my aching cunt doggy style, but to watch my painted toes dangling over his back as he leered hungrily at my bouncing tits and slammed his ginormous prick into his mother's private passage, just seemed for a moment to be too shameful for even my filthy, lurid mind.

I moved to grab my boobs so they wouldn't shake loose from my upper body. He simply laughed and swatted-away my arm, saying that he liked to watch them dance while he fucked me. They were swaying in a convulsive, hypnotic pattern as he banged in and out of my cunt, pushing my head against the bedframe as my fingers clutched at the sheets. My pussy made a guiltily squishing noise when he thrusted and a sloppy slurping suction as he pulled-back. I attempted to cover my yawning hole, but again he gently batted my hand and suggested that I lose my shyness and think only about how good it feels.

"Is it good?" he asked and my face turned tomato-red as a crazy grin split my lips. For five minutes, he was slamming that mammoth cock into my wanton hole, driving my limp, helpless body back and forth on the damp mattress. My wet hair was a disheveled, dark, rat's nest of tangles. My cheeks and shoulders shook in an unseemly way as he bucked against me. My sweaty torso was beginning to show the bruising effects of his heavy hands wherever he had held me, with reddish streaks on my waist and black and blue welts forming on my chest.

"This isn't exactly the way that Hallmark describes it, but yes, it feels fantastic." My head lulled back in the halo of sweaty hair that formed on the pillow and I took a deep breath. I squinted my eyes at him, almost ashamed to admit to what we were doing, and to my obvious enjoyment of the entire episode. But also, at how unabashedly direct he was in proclaiming his sexual dominance and how assured he seemed of my quick acceptance and obedience. But he knew his target and I found my fantasy.

As he continued to pump into me, those dark eyes scanned every inch of my naked, squirming body. Scotty had complete control and he exercised it. His rough hands still tugged and kneaded my boobs while his snaky tongue lashed-out to my firm nipples. And I struggled to not giggle with delight at our erotic predicament. But then I was distracted by another impending explosion boiling-up in my love box. And he could read my reaction. My breaths came in stuttering gasps and my throat could form no words, just lusty, eerie moans from my lungs and my fingernails raked a bloody pattern down the length of his sweaty back. My hips were now thrusting forward to a synchronized rhythm with his pile-driving pole in an obscene dance to the beat of my own incestuous rape. The motion was intense and the pressure increased with each powerful thrust.