tagIncest/TabooPorntastic Adventure

Porntastic Adventure


An Oedipus County Tale

This is a work of fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, and the actions contained herein should not be duplicated. It's all pretend, folks.

Part 1

When Andy Wilson turned eighteen, he did two things that he had dreamed of doing for years. Andy was a shy, bookish young man in wire-rim glasses, easily embarrassed and prone to making a fool of himself around girls his own age. He'd never seen a nude woman in person before, and as soon as he was old enough, he and his friend Rodney Fenster hopped into Andy's beat up Ford sedan and sped two towns over to the Gilded Lily, an upscale strip club that maintained a small section for eighteen to twenty year olds. That night, Andy saw a dozen writhing, voluptuous women, bare to his burning gaze, and each fold and curve, projection and recession, each tanned breast and perky nipple, each neatly trimmed pussy and flexing, muscular thigh, was etched indelibly in young Andy's mind.

He went home that night with erotic visions dancing in his mind, and beat off furiously three times before finally passing into unconsciousness. The next day, Andy drove to that same town and, fortified with some of the birthday cash given him by his lovely and doting mother Tracy, Andy hit the adult bookstore. Finally, he could buy himself some serious pornography, instead of relying upon the internet for release.

Andy perused the racks with a careful eye, taking in all the strange sights with the occasional blush or quick backpedal -- particularly when he accidentally stumbled into the gay section of the store. Turning about quickly, he hurried across to the other side of the store, missing the bemused expression on the clerk's face, who was watching Andy navigate through the aisles, trying to decide if the young man was old enough to be there.

Oblivious, Andy's eager eyes continued to explore. To his chagrin, he discovered that most of the tapes on display were far out of his price range. Thirty or forty dollars for a video seemed rather ridiculous to Andy, who had hoped to pick up three or four vids that afternoon. He didn't have more than sixty dollars on him, and he knew some of that money needed to go to gas up his car. Discouraged, Andy poked around a bit more, planning on leaving empty handed, when he discovered a low case near the middle of the store, jammed tight with videos, bearing the legend "on sale."

Andy's face lit up, and he attacked the rack with a rising feeling of excitement. Most of the videos in the case were six to ten years old, and all averaged ten to fifteen dollars in value. He had found a veritable gold mine. Most of the titles looked like utter crap, but he found a few volumes of a series called "Double D Vixens" that looked promising. Each featured women with enormous breasts and names like "Tig O'Bitties" and "Kara Kleavage." The few pictures on the box showcased massively endowed women splattered with cum, and each volume promised "six hours of nonstop sucking and fucking." Andy was sold. He grabbed three of the videos and rushed to the counter to pay for them, the makings of an enormous erection already beginning in his jeans.

Andy rushed home, intending to immediately pop in the videos and masturbate himself into unconsciousness, but to his chagrin, he found that his mother's car was in the driveway. She was home, then, and that meant Andy's plans would be postponed.

"Where have you been all afternoon?" Tracy Wilson asked her son as he entered the house. At thirty-seven, Tracy was a sight to behold. Statuesque, with pale skin and dark eyes, she wore her straight brown hair past her shoulders, commonly tied up into a loose ponytail as it was now. A few afternoons at the gym each week helped Tracy maintain her shape, including a narrow waist and long, well toned thighs. Still, Tracy possessed a prodigious chest, flaring hips, and a springy, heart-shaped ass. In short, she was an incredibly beautiful and well-built woman, and her considerable charms were not lost on her only child.

Andy blushed furiously, shifting the brown paper bag under his arm, and muttered something noncommittal. He darted past his mother and up the stairs to his room, missing entirely the concerned look Tracy gave him as he moved.

Andy collapsed on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to get the image of his mother's heavy breasts, tightly encased in her blue t-shirt, out of his mind. He cast his mind back to previous evening, and substituted a gyrating, lithe Asian woman. That helped considerably, and Andy felt less guilty about the hardened column of flesh tenting his jeans.

Just then there was a knock at his door, and Andy sat up quickly, brushing the brown paper bag onto the floor on the other side of his bed. "Yes?"

Tracy eased the door open and poked her head inside. "Dinner will be ready in an hour, sweetie. But you'll have to eat alone tonight, if you don't mind. I'm going out with some of the girls from the office. Okay?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks, Mom," Andy said quickly. She smiled and shut the door. Andy heard her light tread pass down the stairs, and he breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like he would have the whole house to himself for the night, and he would have the opportunity to put the vids to good use.

Andy read a book while he ate dinner, one of the many tasty pasta dishes his mother often prepared, but his mind wasn't on the food or his reading. His mind was filled with visions of bouncing breasts, splattered with cum, and wide sucking mouths filled with hard, throbbing cock.

"How do I look?" he heard his mother ask him, and Andy was brought back to the present with a start. His delicate skin flushed furiously as well, partly due to his own erotic thoughts, and partly at how beautiful his mother looked.

Tracy's long brown hair was loose, spilling down her back in a wave. Her makeup was subtle and perfect, accenting her high cheekbones and full lips. Her full figured frame was pressed into a tight black mini-dress that flashed a great deal of thigh and cleavage. Golden earrings sparkled, and a gold band wrapped loosely around her swan-like throat. Her legs were bare, her feet encased in black pumps, and she held a short jacket in her right hand.

"Gorgeous," Andy said honestly.

Tracy frowned. "Don't talk with your mouth full," she told him. Then, leaning close, she gave him a dry kiss on his forehead. Her perfume enveloped him, and Andy realized that her posture gave him a clear look down her neckline. She wasn't wearing a bra. "But thank you, sweetie," Andy heard her say. It barely registered.

He swallowed the noodles in his mouth, and quickly shifted his eyes to the open book at his elbow. "You're welcome, Mom," he said. "Just be careful tonight. Don't break a nail beating off all those men that will be after you."

Tracy laughed, and gently swatted her son's arm. "I hardly think I have to worry about that," she said. Just then the doorbell chimed. "That'll be Margie," Tracy said excitedly. She slipped her jacket on -- Andy forced himself to keep from noticing how her body jiggled with the complicated maneuver -- and hurried to the front door. "Don't have any wild parties while I'm gone," Tracy said over her shoulder. Andy heard the front door open and slam shut, and then he relaxed in his chair with a sigh.

After dinner, he rushed upstairs to his room. One of the few luxuries Andy had bought with the money he earned working at the bookstore at the mall was a large screen tv and a vcr. His entertainment center dominated his small room, and Andy was very glad to have spent the money on it. He stripped out of his clothes, turned on the tv and vcr, and picking one of the "Double D Vixens" volumes at random, threw it in the machine.

As Andy settled down on his bed, his hardening cock in one hand, he grabbed tissues with the other, and then the remote. He fast-forwarded through the opening commercials to get straight to the action. He gripped himself as the first scene began and slowly began to stroke. The tape quality wasn't great, and the tracking bounced around every once in a while, but the visuals more than made up for it. Andy watched, entranced, his cock throbbing hungrily in his fist.

The first scene introduced Kara Kleavage, an auburn haired, green-eyed beauty with immense breasts and a neatly trimmed red pussy. She fucked two men at the same time, alternately sucking and fucking each of them, and then let both of them spill their seed on her breasts. The scene ended with Kara facing the camera, holding up her cum splattered tits, grinning.

Next came Mindy Minx, a petite blonde with huge, fake tits and nipples as wide as a silver dollar. Though short, Mindy was clearly a sexual dynamo, and she savagely fucked her nondescript partner until he groaned and sprayed cum across her lips and eyes.

Andy's cock shuddered and jumped in his hands. The first two scenes had eaten up a little over a half-hour on the tape. He was pacing himself. He wanted to see how far he could get before he couldn't contain himself, and hoped he might make it to the end of the tape. But luck was not with him. Though, perhaps, fate was.

The next scene opened in a hotel room. A large, heavyset man lay on the bed, stroking a prodigious cock that Andy couldn't help comparing to his own slab of meat. He was a good eight or nine inches, he thought, certainly capable of holding his own in a porno.

Suddenly, the music started, and the words "Tig O'Bitties" flashed across the bottom of the screen. The camera panned right, towards what Andy assumed was the hotel bathroom, as the door opened, and Tig O'Bitties stepped into the shot.

Andy's heart stopped for a split second, and then started again, thundering loudly in his chest.

Tig O'Bitties had long brown hair, framing a heart-shaped face with full, pouting lips, high cheekbones, an aristocratic nose, and dark knowing eyes that flashed across the man on the bed with a look of unbridled lust. Her swanlike throat flowed down into a prodigious cleavage, encased deliciously in a bright blue babydoll nightie so transparent that her dark nipples and the shadow of her pubic mound could be seen, hinting at the charms beneath.

Andy recognized the woman immediately. She was unmistakable. Tig O'Bitties was his mother, Tracy Wilson. Several years younger, certainly, but no less beautiful or well built.

Tig O'Bitties sauntered over to the bed, grinning salaciously. Andy looked at the cock in his hand with horror; it felt as though it had grown monstrously harder and looked as though it had grown much longer as well. Against his will, his hand stroked up and down his throbbing length as the woman -- his mother! -- on the screen kissed the man on the bed and reach for his cock with her hand.

That was enough for Andy. His heart pounding in his chest, his mouth and throat as dry as a desert, his toes curling into fists, Andy lost control. His cock surged in his fist and spat its payload. Pearly white cum jetted from the end of his dick with incredible force, and he was too far-gone to deflect it with the tissues. An arc of cum sailed across the room to splash against the tv screen, which showed his mother's face, with her lips wrapped tight around the strange man's dick. Andy's remaining spurts were weaker, but they did manage to make a steaming white lake on his sheets. Andy slumped back against his headboard, gasping.

His eyes refocused, watching in wonder as his mother mugged to the camera, licking the stranger's cock like a lollipop and then devouring it once more. Andy looked down at his crotch, and realized with mounting horror that it was still hard. Slowly, as his mother sucked on the screen, Andy began to stroke himself once again. He watched as she shucked the nightie, revealing her sweetly rounded and gravity defying tits with their hardened nipples, her taut belly, and the neatly trimmed jungle between her thighs. Seeing her completely naked, particularly with a blob of his own cum drying on the screen, was once again too much for Andy's frail constitution. He exploded once more, with the same vigor and consistency as the previous climax. Still, he remained hard.

Filled with lust and shame, Andy jacked off a total of six times to that one scene, as Tig O'Bitties sucked the stranger off, had her pussy eaten out, then fucked the man in a variety of positions, including doggy style. Her familiar, throaty voice cried out with each stroke. At the end, the man sprayed his seed across his mother's breasts. Grinning lustily at the camera, Andy's mother hefted her cum splattered tits, and, lifting one to her lips, licked the cum off her pendulous globe. That move precipitated Andy's sixth explosion.

He had to take a break after that, run downstairs and drink a few glasses of water. He was completely dehydrated and light headed, his mind reeling at the implications. When he caught his breath, he ran back to his room, still naked, his cock raw and red. He scanned through the remaining two videos quickly, searching for more Tig O'Bitties action, but only found one.

Near the end of the third tape, he found Tig O'Bitties lying by the side of a pool, her prodigious curves barely contained by a bright blue string bikini. A young man of eighteen or nineteen years of age entered the frame, clearly supposed to be some kind of pool boy, and his mom proceeded to fuck his brains out. Andy only came three times watching that one, his last climax producing no more than a dribble, and had to give up because his dick was hurting too much.

Andy cleaned himself and his sheets, put the videos away, and then collapsed on his bed. He fell into a troubled but welcome sleep, and did not notice when his mother returned home.

Part 2

Two years passed. Andy graduated from high school and enrolled in the local community college, where he worked on getting a business degree. He remained at home, as much to save money as to stay close to his mother.

His lust and his attraction grew with each passing day, though he had no idea how to deal with them. Tracy, oblivious to the changes in her son, was simply happy to have him around. At first he was around as much as he could be, outside of work and school, in an effort to spend as much time with his mother as possible. It helped that so many of his friends left town for college, leaving him with a ready excuse to stay home on his weekend evenings.

In his spare time, he searched. On the internet, in adult bookstores, flea markets, and second hand shops, Andy looked for other Tig O'Bitties appearances. According to the IMDB, she made nearly a hundred films over the course of a four year period, and featured in two dozen men's magazines. Through diligence, hard work, and a willingness to spend whatever was required, Andy amassed quite a collection of Tig O'Bitties memorabilia. In two short years, he tracked down nearly half of her films -- "Big Titted Mamas" and "Carwash Whores" being his two favorites due to their all-female casts -- as well as some twenty magazines. Each day, Andy would jack off furiously to images of his mother's nude form, or to one of her films.

As his search continued, Andy put together a chronology of the events. All of the films his mother appeared in were made twelve to eight years beforehand. Those were the years immediately following the death of Andy's father, the victim of a drunk driver. Those were hazy years for Andy himself.

He took his father's death pretty hard, he recalled, and also didn't remember his mother being around much at the time. During those years, Andy spent most of his days with his grandmother or one of his aunts. They never really explained to him where his mother had gone, except to say she was "working," and she seemed to be working a lot. Now Andy knew what she had been doing, realized the sacrifices that she had been forced to make in order to make ends meet. For he knew, also, that his parents had married early, that his father had provided for them, and that following his father's death, his mother had to scramble to fill those vacant shoes.

Discovering his mother's secret past filled in some of the blanks, but there was still a great deal of unanswered questions. Why porn, for example? How had she made that decision? How had she been able to do it so secretly? At what point did she decide enough was enough? Yet the only way to find out the answers would be to broach the subject with his mother, and if he did that, he'd have to explain why he wanted to know.

That might get ugly. Especially as, he realized, he was becoming obsessed with her. His every waking moment was filled with maddening, incestuous fantasies. He was distracted, unfocused, and growing more distant with each discovery. Unsure of how to deal with his lust, consumed with guilt and self-loathing, Andy began to spend less and less time at home. He worked as much overtime as possible, spent long hours at the library, and tried to come home late every night, after his mother had gone to bed. He would sneak into his room and masturbate as quietly as he dared and as furiously as he needed, always to an image of his mother.

It was an untenable situation, but Andy didn't know what to do. He couldn't stay, and yet he couldn't leave either. Every moment spent in her presence was sheer, delicious torture. Yet he was afraid to spend more than a few minutes at a time with her, terrified he might blurt out something or, worse, force himself upon her. As his lust grew, so too did his misery.

For her part, Tracy could not fail to notice the changes in her son. He vacillated between being too attentive and being completely unavailable. He flinched when she touched him, yet would look at her with such tenderness it made her heart ache. He was such a smart, sensitive boy, and she worried about him constantly. Having to go to a community college because they couldn't afford to send him to a better school, left behind by his friends, forced to work his way through school; she thought back to the last time their family had faced financial difficulty, and what she had done to ensure Andy had clothes to wear to school, eyeglasses to see, books to read, food on the table, and a roof over his head.

Those had been wild, crazy years. Desperate years. The death of her husband, the love of her life, had nearly shattered her, as did the realization following his funeral that she did not possess the necessary skills to provide for herself or her son. Don had been a good provider, but in the few short years they had together, between the house, the car, Andy's medicine, and other expenses, Don had managed to accrue considerable debt.

Tracy had married Don right out of high school, had never had a job before, and had spent the first seven years of her marriage looking after Don and their son, never paying much attention to the financial side of things. But she was beautiful, and had always been sexually adventurous, and she had a friend who knew a guy who made pornographic films. She knew, looking back, that her decision had as much to do with the despair of losing Don as it had to do with the need to make as much money as possible, as quickly as possible.

And it was frighteningly, horribly fun. She had always been proud of her body, the effect she had on men, and she loved a good fuck as much -- or more -- as the next woman. The constant sex and the absence of true feelings had kept her going for a while, but eventually she missed her Andy, so she quit. With enough money socked away, she went back to school to broaden her horizons, and now she was a legal secretary, a professional woman. Those days were behind her, and if, occasionally, she looked wistfully back on all the sex she had, she did not miss the emptiness of it all.

But now her emotional center, her grounding point, her son, was drifting away from her, and Tracy didn't know why it was happening. It wasn't fair, considering what she had sacrificed to make sure he grew up right.

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bydellagordo© 15 comments/ 365907 views/ 146 favorites

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