My Son's Wedding Pt. 01

I suppose I shouldn't be writing this down for anyone to read. But I'm not a Catholic anymore, so I can't go to confession on a Sunday. Let's consider this my written confession. My name is Carol Jacques. For most of my life I'd been the perfect housewife and mother, with a loving husband and a wonderful, very handsome son Josh.

My husband Gerald, who is an international stockbroker, had been a very good husband to me and provided us with a wonderful home in which I was happy to play housewife in. Gerald was often away on business so our marriage was never under the kind of strain where we were living with each other day in, day out.

This meant I could focus on making sure my son stayed on the rails and did well at school, then college and university. This wasn't that difficult as he was an academic ace who breezed his way to an honours degree.

By the age of twenty-two he already had a big future ahead and so naturally the most attractive young women were flocking around him, seeing him as the most eligible man they could find to marry.

Josh had always been popular with the girls but there was a period around twenty-two to twenty-four where he seemed to have a different girlfriend every week! As his mother, I thought nothing of it; I was never a prude and he didn't seem to be breaking hearts, just sowing his wild oats like young men loved to do.

But that all changed when he got to twenty-five when he seemed to get bored of casual fun and then met Tasmin at a racecourse event. Tasmin was the very privileged daughter of a property tycoon and it seemed that she hit it off with my son as soon as they met.

After dating for only a few months things began to get serious and there was even talk of wedding bells, which seemed far too soon for my liking. It was definitely around this point where I started to find dealing with my emotions about this situation rather difficult.

Until then, I'd seen a lot of Josh even when he'd been casually dating. He was always coming round to talk and to get his meals cooked for him, which he knew I always loved to do. But when he hooked up with the very high maintenance, very demanding Tasmin the visits to the house became more and more infrequent.

Sometimes, rarely, they would visit me and I'd cook for them both. But Tasmin was a hardcore vegan type and everything had to be "gluten free" and "organic", it made making a meal a nightmare. I wanted so much to like her, especially as she was talking about marrying my son. But as much as I tried, I just couldn't find a way to get along with her.

She was rather condescending towards me and I got the impression that I'd be seeing Josh even less if and when she managed to get him down the aisle. The situation caused me more and more stress.

I began to feel that, while Tasmin was a very attractive and desirable woman who would introduce him into higher society and get him meeting all the right people, Josh would be much happier with a girl less affluent and privileged but simply a nicer person.

Yet he was convinced that he was in love with Tasmin and I could sense a big announcement coming. When they visited to tell me they'd set the date for the wedding I found it incredibly hard to pretend I felt happy about it, but I managed to fake some enthusiasm and offered my congratulations.

Yet, inside, I felt so disappointed in my son's choice of wife and after they left that night I had to pour myself a few brandies to settle my nerves. The way I felt that night, I didn't even know if I even would attend the wedding.

The next few months were no easier for me, I had to deal with Tasmin and her obnoxious family dictating how the wedding should be, determined to control everything as they had money to burn.

We were a well off family but Tasmin's domineering father Terrance was insistent that he pay for everything, as he was a man of tradition. Personally, I don't think he gave a damn about tradition or being generous, he just loved flaunting his wealth and enjoying the control it gave him over others.

When it got to within a month of the wedding the stress it was causing was giving me sleepless nights. I felt my son was making a terrible mistake by marrying into this money-mad, materialistic family. But in the dark hours of the night I would admit to myself that I felt resentful and jealous of Tasmin for taking my son away from me. It didn't help that she was a total bitch either.

Over the next month I attempted several discussions with my son, trying to make sure that his feelings for her were genuine and he wasn't marrying for the wrong reasons, like affluence and influence.

I could tell these were definitely factors but I also had to admit he did seem to have some genuine feelings for Tasmin and I found that difficult. It was easier for me to believe he was just marrying for advancing his status and career rather than him actually loving her. She was certainly attractive, not beautiful but sexy with a voluptuous figure and stunning blonde hair.

I couldn't believe how difficult I was finding it to let go of my son, emotionally. We'd always been so close though and, while I always knew he would flee the nest and marry, I couldn't have anticipated how distressing it would be for me.

In my nightly reflections I began to wonder if my emotional attachment to my son was stronger than is healthy. This thought played on my mind constantly in the weeks running up to the wedding.

I was able to distract myself by immersing myself in the preparations. While Terrance had been happy to pay for everything, he was happy for me to deal with arranging all the invitations, the flowers, the wedding cake, meeting the vicar to discuss the vows (Tasmin insisted they write their own vows, trying to be modern, I suppose).

In a way I was grateful to be given all these time consuming chores, it took my mind off my emotional turmoil over Josh.

But as the big day approached I was having a very difficult time dealing with my feelings. I just desperately wanted to convince Josh that he was making a terrible mistake, that he'd be happier with someone else.

I still remember the night before the wedding, staring at my clock at 3am in the morning and thinking about ringing Josh to tell him that he had call the wedding off. That I'd disown him if he married Tasmin, that I'd never speak to him again. That's how I felt at that moment, but I knew it would be utter madness to do so.

I got a few hours sleep and woke up with butterflies in my stomach after dreaming about running down the aisle to stop the wedding ceremony halfway through. After a shower brought me back to feeling in reality again I carefully picked out my dress. I don't remember consciously thinking it, but I must have felt the need to look my best for the wedding.

I spent several hours choosing my dress and putting make-up on. I picked out a magnificent magenta dress that I knew I would look good in, a very expensive dress of mine I reserved for special occasions.

As it was knee length, I slid on some black thigh-highs. My legs were my best feature apart from my breasts, which that dress showed off in a classy manner, a restrained but noticeable cleavage on display. I finally picked out a matching hat and stood in front of my full length mirror, admiring myself.

Knowing that I'd least be looking my very best on this momentous day was a consolation, even though my hands were shaking with nerves. I had no big drama planned now, I knew it was too late to stop the wedding. Josh had spent the night at his best friend's house as he was going to be his best man.

Matthew was the same age as Josh and they'd been friends since they were boys. I had lightly quizzed Matthew about what he thought about Tasmin, and he gave a very diplomatic answer that I found hard to read. He was obviously trying to be the good friend to my son but I sensed he didn't like her much either.

I heard the soft beep of a car outside and knew it must be the chauffeur that Terrance told me he was sending over for me. He'd sent a Rolls Royce!

I gasped as I saw it out of my window and derived great pleasure from walking out to the car and having the chauffeur open the door for me while my neighbours gawped through their twitching curtains.

The enormity of the event felt overwhelming and my stomach felt full of butterflies all the way there. I calmed myself by repeating the mantra in my mind that this is what Josh wanted and I loved him. So if he was being made happy I should be happy for him.

I just wanted to convince myself even though I was fighting against my deepest emotions, just wanting to be the motherly support he needed on such a big day. Terrance had chosen a magnificent country church for the wedding and my heart leapt when I saw how handsome Josh looked, stood outside the church and talking to his best friend.

He looked so debonair and suave, like something out of a Jane Austen novel. I had the strange thought enter my mind that Josh looked much more handsome than his father had looked on our wedding day.

The chauffeur opened the door for me again and I felt almost regal as I stepped out. Josh looked predictably nervous but pleased to see me and chatting to him and Matthew settled my shaky nerves somewhat.

By putting my emotions far from my mind I wondered whether I might even be able to enjoy the occasion. I just tried not to think about how I felt inside.

After Josh greeted me with a soft kiss on my cheek which seemed to inflame my emotions I said, "Oh Josh, you look so handsome in your suit! They've chosen a perfect location and Terrance was so kind to send me a Rolls Royce to pick me up! I felt like royalty!"

"Oh Mum, you look like royalty! This dress is amazing!" he replied and I blushed at his compliment, even though I knew he was saying just to be nice and make small talk as we awaited the bride.

"I hope you've remembered the ring, Matthew, we wouldn't want any drama!" I said with a laugh and he grinned nervously.

"I'm checking I've got it about every thirty seconds, but thanks for asking Carol!" he said, tapping his pocket to reassure himself he had the wedding ring nice and safe.

He almost looked more nervous than my son with this responsibility on his shoulders, probably terrified of Tasmin's reaction if he didn't produce it at the vital moment.

Once all the other guests gradually arrived we were ushered inside the church and I took my place near the front, on a pew the opposite side to my son. It was a strange feeling for me, but once we were inside the church somehow the whole significance of what was happening dawned on me.

My son, my handsome, gorgeous son, was about to get married to a woman I thought of as a total bitch. A woman I knew would dominate most of his time and wouldn't care that Josh would hardly get to see me after they were married.

As I glanced across at him I could sense that he wasn't looking confident or particularly happy, was he having second thoughts after all? He caught me looking at him and gave me a reassuring smile that I felt was a bit forced and unconvincing. I smiled back.

But just this exchange of glances seemed to bring all the feelings I'd been trying to suppress to the surface and, suddenly, I felt like if I stayed where I was then I was likely to burst into tears.

The last thing I wanted to do was cause a big scene on my son's big day. But I remembered that as I'd entered the church there was a side room and so I hurried back up the aisle before I lost control of my composure.

I could feel the eyes of the assembled wedding guests on me and avoided making any eye contact, just desperate to get inside that side room so I could collect myself and calm down. I remember the relief I felt as I turned the door handle of the side room and found it unlocked.

It was a basic room with religious pictures on the walls with a long table and wooden chairs. Before I could sit down I was amazed to hear the door open behind me.

Josh had seen my distress and, being the wonderful son that he is, didn't worry about the prying eyes and whispers of the guests and came to see if I was ok.

But he had caught me at a very vulnerable moment where I was really struggling to hold back the emotional floodgates.

"Mum, what's wrong? You're upset?" he asked with compassion and caring in his voice.

"I'm fine...I'm fine, honestly. This is just a very emotional day for me and I didn't want to embarrass you by crying in front of everyone. I just need a few minutes to gather myself and then I'll be fine" I said, reluctant to even look my own son in the eyes.

But Josh knew me too well.

"Mum....this isn't like you. Is something bothering you that you haven't told me? Be honest with me, you know your opinion means a lot to me."

I paused, not quite knowing what to say now that he'd put me on the spot like this. But when I dared to look up at him and saw the love in his eyes I had to take a deep breath to hold back the tears.

Though I was able to stop myself from crying, my words seemed to spill out of me in an unstoppable flow.

"Josh...I wish you hadn't asked me that...because now I have to be honest with you....I'm so scared that you're making a terrible mistake....I don't think Tasmin is the right woman for you....you're such a wonderful, handsome young man, you could have your pick of women....yes, Tasmin is attractive and very socially accomplished, but what does that matter if she doesn't make you happy, if she doesn't love you for who you are?! Oh god, I've said too much....".

Josh looked crestfallen and I felt even more emotional but was determined not to cry.

"Mum, is that how you really feel about Tasmin? You don't think she loves me at all?" he said, looking very emotional himself.

At that moment my emotions took over and, even now, I can't believe the words that came out of my mouth.

"Not like me, Joshua. You don't have to tie yourself to a loveless marriage just because you like sex with her. Everything she can give you, I can give you myself....I can double her desire, double the pleasure she brings you....." I said, my hand straying to my son's crotch.

"Mum....what are you doing? I'm your son...." he replied, hardening in my hand.

"I'll stop if you tell me to...but I want to show you what a real woman's love feels like before you marry that bitch.....tell me you want me stop, and I'll stop...." I said, looking straight in his gorgeous brown eyes.

His jaw fell open and he tried to form some words but none came out. I seized on the moment and slid to my knees in front of him.

Acting purely on instinct I unzipped my son's trousers and pulled them down, then slid his navy blue briefs down.

The sight of my own son's erect cock in front of me made my mouth go dry. I took it in my hand and looked up at him as I brought my mouth to the tip. He closed his eyes and I knew then that he didn't want me to stop.

I licked a globule of precum from the tip of his cock then wrapped my lips around the head, beginning to suck my own son's cock.

The sensation for me was indescribable, but I want to try to capture the words somehow; it felt like all the pent up desire and emotion I'd ever felt for my son was somehow channelled into this worship of his impressively large member.

As I sank my mouth down his lengthy shaft I saw him open his eyes and begin to savour the sensation of his own mother sucking him.

Without the thought having even entered my mind ever before suddenly I'd found a way to express my passion for Josh and he hadn't rejected it.

In fact, as I sucked him and worked my mouth up and down his shaft, I could tell he was deeply enjoying the experience and it was then that I knew I wanted to take things even further.

After another minute of oral pleasure I knew I didn't have long to make my next move with Tasmin and her father on the way in the wedding car.

I stood up and looked him straight in the eyes before I spoke.

"Make love to me, Joshua.....just this once...I'll hardly see you once you're married...let me show you what a real woman's love and passion is like......".

With that, I pulled him with me as I moved back towards the table, then quickly hopped on to it. I began hitching up my dress but I didn't need to do much as Josh began to take the lead. I felt the incredible thrill of my son frenetically lifting up my dress over my waist, revealing my sexy legs clad in black thigh highs, which made him gasp. He didn't realise he had such a sexy mother.

We looked at each with eyes full of love and desire, our mouths meeting and beginning to kiss like lovers for the first time. As our lips met it felt so intensely romantic, the special love between us that had been repressed under societal norms now fully blossoming. But my desire was so strong that just a normal kiss was not enough and I dared to slip my tongue in my son's mouth.

Again, I was testing the boundaries of what he would accept but I then felt the visceral thrill of his tongue entering my mouth. I was French kissing my own son!

Our tongues entwined in mutual desire and I felt my nipples throbbing and swelling from the deep sense of sexual arousal this kind of kissing induced in me.

But then came the biggest moment of all between us. It was one thing to French kiss his own mother, but did my son dare to go the whole way with me? As soon as my dress was hitched up over my waist, I slipped my white silk panties off in an instant and suddenly my son was staring, wide eyed, at his own mother's cunt.

"Put it in me....put it in me, please!" I begged, my voice full of sexual yearning. I wanted it, I needed it. Before he could decide to decline I pulled off my dress entirely and then my bra with another swift hand gesture.

Even though in my mid forties I still had very firm and pert breasts and I knew my lovely pair were going to help seal the deal.

"Suck on Mummy's breasts...suck on them like you used to" I said, feeling thrilled at how wicked my words were. I was just so on fire with sexual desire that it seemed to just come out of me, spontaneously.

But nothing prepared me for the deep delight of feeling his mouth latch on to one nipple and then the other, each one throbbing and hardening in his mouth until they were as hard as pencil rubbers. As he gorged himself on his mother's teats I brought my hand to the back of his head to hold it in place, caressing his dark brown hair.

I think if either of us had contemplated that we were about to commit full mother and son incest in a place of holy worship, only minutes away from the bride arriving while the groom was about to enjoy very taboo, illicit sex...well, we wouldn't have done it. But the sheer sexual energy between us meant that there was no moment of consideration and reflection, just incredible lust.

Still perched on the edge of the table I reached down and took hold of his thick, erect cock and whispered, "Put it in Mummy...", then guided it to the hole where he first came from. Just the feeling of the tip of his cockhead touching my inflamed, wet labial lips sent shivers of delight up my spine and I wanted nothing more than to feel him fully inside.

"Put it in....be a good boy for Mummy" I whispered then let out a spontaneous moan as he inhaled deeply then pushed his prime cockmeat inside my awaiting holy of holies.

The feeling was impossible to describe, only another mother who has experienced it with her son could truly understand the potent cocktail of emotions and deep desires I felt at that magical moment.

I could feel my body shaking from the intensity and my breathing was baited as he entered me fully, right down to the base. Not just his length but his girth filled me perfectly, as if it was always destined to be back inside his mother where it belonged.

I pulled him close to me and we shared another torrid, feral kiss as we began having incestuous sex, his bride to be on the way. It was a feeling of exhilaration that I'd never experienced before. I didn't care that my make up was now smeared across my face, none of it mattered. I'd seduced my own son before his wedding and it felt so erotic that I thought I might melt.