Sharing a Bed with My Son

As with most things I write this short incest story about a mother and her son takes place in a happy alternate reality where people don't worry about birth control or STD's.

I hope you enjoy!

IsabellaEmily

~~

"Quit complaining," I said for the tenth time. "Neither of us is happy about this, but it is what it is."

"I still think I'd be more comfortable in the car," Dominic said.

"I don't want you sleeping in the car," I whispered. "You'd have to move it out into the driveway to run the AC, and this isn't the safest neighborhood. Besides it's just one night."

"Good," he said. "Since we're staying the night in an unsafe neighborhood, at least we're making it easier on any potential murderers by being the same room so he can get us both at once."

"Don't worry," I teased him. "I'll fight him off and you can complain to him about the heat."

"It couldn't be much hotter in the car with it parked in the garage than it is in here," he complained. "And it wouldn't be so crowded."

"Look on the bright side," I told him with a grin. "You can tell all your friends that you slept with an older woman."

"I'll be a hero as long as they don't find out it was my mom," he laughed. "Unless..."

"Unless what?" I asked, squirming on the thin mattress while I tried to get comfortable.

My son Dominic and I were sprawled out on a sleeper sofa with some pillows and a king-sized sheet.

We had come to help my older sister sell her house and move into a tiny one-bedroom apartment. Most of her stuff had been moved, except for the furniture that she was leaving behind to donate, and several boxes of books and junk that she'd saved for me to go through.

My son and I had loaded what I wanted to keep into my SUV and donated the rest, but because of a terrible rainstorm had decided to stay the night before hitting the road for home.

Unfortunately, there was some sort of convention in town and finding hotel rooms had been impossible. We couldn't even find a room to share.

My sister was spending the first night in her new place and had told us that if we could make do with the sleeper sofa, we were welcome to it.

Unfortunately, the air conditioner in her house no longer worked. It was due to be replaced next week, but that wasn't doing us any good on this rainy and humid summer night.

We'd borrowed pillows and the sheet from my sister and decided to make the best of it, the two of us spread out on the unfolded sleeper sofa, the only light in the room coming from the streetlight outside.

"Unless I mention that we slept together to Brian," Dominic said. "He wouldn't be freaked out. He'd be insanely jealous."

"Jealous?" I asked.

I was pretending to be surprised, but I was secretly pleased. Brian was Dominic's best friend, and I'd been catching him staring at me a lot lately.

He seemed to go out of his way to spend a lot of time out on our back deck whenever I was in the pool. More than once I'd caught him shifting around to try to hide his erection.

"Brian has a huge crush on you," Dominic said. "He'd give anything to trade places with me."

"So maybe I'll tease him and tell him I slept with a twenty-five-year-old," I laughed. "That ought to fuel his masturbatory fantasies for a while."

"Oh thanks mom," said Dominic. "Tonight wasn't awkward enough until my own mother mentioned my friend masturbating."

"Don't tell me you're embarrassed about that subject," I said. "Not after all the semen-soaked towels I've picked up off the floor of your room."

"Oh you're one to judge," he laughed. "I know that's not an electric toothbrush I hear humming in your room every night. No one moans like that just from clean teeth."

"Fair enough," I laughed. "Let's call a truce then. Neither of us will mention masturbation again tonight, and neither of us will masturbate tonight."

"Jeezus Mom!" Dominic blurted out. "I assumed that was a given!"

"I'm sharing a bed with someone with a perpetual erection who never clears his search history," I teased. "Just trying to establish some boundaries."

"I'm just a curious young man with a healthy body," he proclaimed in mock defense. "Don't judge."

"No judgement here," I told him. "Although sometime remind me to ask you about the things you've watched on my laptop. When I was your age, I never masturbated to videos of lesbians peeing on each other."

"I fucking hope not," he said. "When you were my age, you were a parent."

We lay still in the dark room for a few minutes, and I was trying to decide how much of this conversation was just teasing back and forth, and how much Dominic might really be embarrassed or bothered by it.

We were usually pretty open with each other, and he shared my sarcastically dark sense of humor.

I eventually decided to give in to one of the personality traits of mine that he's teased me about several times over the years. My inability to let someone else have the last word.

"Parents get horny too Dominic," I whispered with a grin.

"About golden showers and lesbians?" he laughed.

"You don't know my life!" I teased. "Maybe I have some lesbian peeing fantasies."

"Well let me know if you ever decide to act them out at the house," he said. "I might want to get to know some of the participants. Or at least watch."

"Maybe my fantasies aren't about those two things specifically," I admitted. "But not all of my fantasies involve the missionary position in the dark."

"If any of them do involve lesbians just remember that both my birthday and Christmas are just around the corner," he said. "And I don't need more socks or another sweater."

"I'll get you paper towels and some lube," I giggled. "And you can get me batteries.

"Are you really that old and boring?" he asked. "Your fantasy is more batteries for your vibrator?"

"You couldn't handle one of my fantasies," I told him. "But it would make your peeing lesbians seem tame."

"On that note we should try to get some sleep," he laughed. "I'm not sure that laying in the dark swapping sexual fantasies with my mom is a good idea."

"Have it your way," I grinned.

I stretched out as best I could, waiting for almost thirty seconds before adding one final word.

"Coward," I whispered.

He laughed and squirmed around, looking for his own comfortable position.

"It's so fucking hot," he said, about ten minutes later.

"Shut up," I laughed. "At least you're not wearing a shirt. I'll never get to sleep like this."

I was wearing an oversized t-shirt that I sometimes slept in on cold nights. Normally I slept naked, but I had planned on being in an air-conditioned hotel room. Knowing that Dominic was in the bed next to me I'd kept my panties on too.

"Take if off it you have to," he said. "I promise not to look at your old lady boobs."

"Old lady boobs?" I laughed, smacking him in the arm. "I am far from an old lady. My breasts are amazing and a sight to behold."

"A sight to behold?" he laughed. "Who the hell told you that?"

"Well no one recently," I admitted with a grin. "But I certainly don't think I look old."

"Fine," he said. "I take it back. Take your shirt off so you can try to get comfortable, and I promise not to behold your breasts."

The idea of taking the shirt off did appeal to me. It was sweltering in the room, and I always slept better without anything on.

"It would be weird," I said tentatively.

"Weird?" Dominic asked. "What could possibly be weird about a twenty-five-year-old grown man sleeping in the same bed as his forty-five-year-old mother? This is the most normal thing in the world Mom."

"Don't look," I said, sitting up.

"Fine," he said.

I pulled the shirt over my head and lay back down, feeling slightly better in the hot room.

"You're not wearing a bra!" Dominic exclaimed after about thirty seconds.

"It's too hot for a bra," I told him. "And you said you weren't going to look anyway."

"Well I couldn't help it," he laughed. "I'd never forgive myself if I didn't at least peek."

"I hope you're satisfied," I told him, laughing along with him in the dark room.

I knew he was probably kidding, but I was still a little flattered.

"Oh I am," he said. "Your tits don't look a day over fifty."

I smacked his arm again and we laughed together.

"We need to try to sleep," I told him. "We have a long drive tomorrow."

"Agreed," he said.

We lay side by side, staring towards the ceiling, each of us with our own thoughts swirling around our heads.

~

I don't know how long I lay there, but I hadn't been able to get to sleep. In addition to thoughts of the long drive ahead of us tomorrow, the heat was definitely making things uncomfortable.

I had rolled onto my side about twenty minutes earlier, and without moving I opened my eyes, not wanting to risk waking Dominic up if he'd managed to fall asleep.

And in the dim light I saw that he had an erection.

Although I'm not sure that the word erection is sufficient to explain what I saw tenting the front of his boxers.

Because he wasn't just hard. He was totally and completely engorged, and as I stared, it appeared to throb ever so slightly.

Like me he hadn't planned on sleeping where anyone would see him, so he hadn't brought anything to sleep in. He was wearing only a pair of boxers.

His cock was tenting them perfectly, and they looked ready to tear open from trying to accommodate his arousal. I wondered how close his cockhead was to poking through the hole in the front of them.

I lay perfectly still and stared, wondering if he was asleep, or if he was awake and in aroused agony as he lay there unable to even touch his aching cock.

And as I watched, he reached down and squeezed himself. He didn't stroke, but he gave it a squeeze so hard I would have thought it painful, holding it for several seconds and then letting it go.

I couldn't help myself.

"Honey?" I whispered. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, jerking in surprise and sitting up in an attempt to hide his cock. "I'm okay. Why?"

"You don't have to try to hide," I said softly. "I saw it. It doesn't bother me."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"You don't have to apologize," I told him. "I'm not offended. Erections happen."

He lay back down, and I saw that it hadn't diminished a bit.

"What caused it?" I asked him. "Did you have a dream?"

"No," he said. "I haven't been asleep yet. It's too hot. I was just laying here thinking."

"What were you thinking about?" I asked.

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"Does thinking about nothing always make you so hard?" I giggled softly.

"Let's just say my mind was wandering and leave it at that," he said.

"Fair enough," I said.

We lay there for a few more minutes, and my eyes kept traveling back down his body to his cock, and I realized that I got a rush of pleasure every time I saw that it was still rock hard.

Eventually he reached down and gave it another squeeze, and my curiosity got the best of me.

"Does it hurt?" I whispered.

"No," he said. "It's uncomfortable, especially since it's unable to...you know...get out."

"Get out?" I asked.

"It's stuck in my boxers," he said. "The constant pressure on it just makes it worse."

"Oh," I said. "I guess that makes sense. Do you need to let it out?"

"I don't need to," he said. "I'll survive. It'll just keep me awake all night."

"So let it out," I told him, rolling onto my back. "It's pretty dark in here and I promise not to look."

"Mom," he said, "that's weird."

"No one will know," I said. "Besides it's a natural human body function."

He was still for several seconds, and then I felt him shift around before settling back against the mattress.

"Better?" I whispered.

"Maybe," he replied. "At least it feels better."

"Good," I said.

I rolled my eyes sideways to see if he was looking at me, and then glanced down at his cock, and almost gasped at the sight of it poking straight up in the air through the flap in the front of his boxers.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I lied. "Just trying to get comfortable."

"You looked at it," he laughed.

"I did not," I lied again.

"My fucking mother is a pervert," he said.

"Says the man with his boner out a mere twelve inches from his own mom," I teased. "Judge much?"

"I'm not judging but if you keep looking at it it'll just get harder," he said.

"Jeezus," I whispered. "You mean it can get even harder?"

"Well...yeah," he said. "Especially with a topless woman staring at it."

"I didn't stare," corrected him. "It was just a look."

"That's okay," he laughed. "I'm working hard not to stare at you."

"Should I cover up?" I asked.

"No," he said. "It's too fucking hot for that. I just need to think about something else."

"Does it usually go away on its own?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Well usually it doesn't have to," he said. "Most nights I take care of it."

"Oh," I said.

I hadn't thought of that, although I should have known. A good orgasm always helped me get to sleep.

After several more minutes, and several more subtle glances at the hard cock right next to me, I once again shifted on the mattress, trying to get comfortable in the oppressive heat.

"What if we open the window?" I asked. "I think the worst of the rain has passed, and if they're the double hung kind, we can open it at the top and let some of the wind in. At least the air will be moving, even if it's still hot air."

Dominic rolled off the bed and went towards the window, and in the light from the fluorescent streetlamp outside I could see a perfect outline of his body. And of his thick erection bouncing as he moved.

He grabbed the window latch and worked at it for a minute, and then lowered the top of the window about five inches.

"Let's see if that helps," he said, returning to the bed.

"It's not any worse," I said after a few minutes. "Maybe."

I closed my eyes and unsuccessfully willed myself to go to sleep. But instead, all I got were visions of Dominic's cock pointing lustfully at the ceiling as he lay beside me.

I tried to think of anything else, but my mind kept going back to what it would be like to feel the heat of him in my hand.

Or pressed against me.

Or dragging up my inner thigh as I spread my legs open.

Or pushing against my cunt as my slippery lips parted for him and then closed around him as he pushed into me all the up to the hilt.

"Fuck," I whispered.

"What's wrong?" Dominic asked.

"Just too hot to sleep," I lied. "I can't get comfortable."

I grasped the pillow and rolled over, drawing one leg up as I ended up almost face down on the bed.

"At least you can roll around," he chuckled. "If I tried that I'd break myself."

I lifted my head and glanced over my shoulder.

"Still?" I whispered.

"It's here to stay," he said dejectedly. "I'm just going to have to live with it."

"What if you...you know...took care of it?" I asked him.

"Took care of it?" he asked. "Do you mean...?"

"If it won't go away," I said, "then maybe you should...you know...relieve the pressure. Besides guys always sleep better after they...you know...ejaculate."

"Ejaculate?" he asked. "I'm not sure what's worse. My mother telling me to jerk off or my mother using the word ejaculate. And how do you know what happens to guys after they...do that?"

"Not all the orgasms of my life have happened from vibrators you know," I giggled. "I've encountered a few real cocks in all my years. And I won't say ejaculate any more if it bothers you so much. How about I say something like 'shoot your man gravy'?"

"That might be even worse," he laughed. "Where the hell did you hear that?"

"I read it on Literotica," I giggled.

I rolled over onto my back again and glanced down at him.

"That seriously looks uncomfortable," I said. "Isn't it a problem if it's that hard for too long? Like medically? Like those commercials for blue pills?"

"I don't think this would count," he said. "At least with those pills you can get some relief."

"So relieve it," I whispered. "If it's something you need to do, it's something you need to do. I won't tell anyone."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said.

Despite his objection, his voice was filled with hope. Unless I missed my guess, my son wanted to jerk off.

And the truth was that I wanted him to as well.

"Oh get over it," I said. "You need to relieve the pressure, and it will probably help you sleep. One of us should get a few hours of rest."

"I just meant that it will...make a mess," he said.

"Oh yeah," I said. "I hadn't thought of that."

I was thinking about it now though.

I was wondering what it would look like when he orgasmed.

Would it shoot out in several spurts?

Or in one powerful spurt followed by several dribbles?

What would it smell like?

What would my own son's semen taste like?

What would it feel like if it landed on my skin?

What would it feel like to have him come inside me, pumping his hot orgasm against my quivering cunt walls?

"Here," I said, pushing the top sheet towards him. "Do it onto this. We sure as hell won't get cold enough to cover up with it. And Aunt Kim said to keep it. So we can take it home and wash it or throw it away."

He took the sheet and unfolded it a bit, and draped it over his body so it covered his belly and thighs, with his hard cock sticking up uncovered.

He was looking over at me, and in the dim light I saw his eyes lock onto my breasts, and I got a sudden thrill from the realization that my son was about to make himself cum just a few inches away from me.

"Do you want to roll over?" he asked.

"Do you want me to?" I whispered, shocking myself. "I can stay like this. If you want."

Was I seriously offering my body as a visual masturbatory aid to my own son?

"If you want to," he said. "This will take a while."

"A while?" I asked. "You look like you're ready to pop."

"When it builds up like this it always takes a long time," he said. "And makes a huge mess."

He wrapped his hand over his cock and started to slowly milk it up and down, and I averted my eyes and purposefully looked at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry honey," I said softly. "I wish there was something I could do, but I guess I'll just leave you alone."

"If you stay like that," he said, "that will help. I like looking at your breasts."

"So the old lady boobs are working for you huh?" I asked with a grin.

"They're beautiful," he whispered.

I looked over at him then, and to my surprise our eyes locked.

"Thank you," I whispered.

I could tell by the rise and fall of his shoulder that he was stroking his cock in a slow and steady rhythm.

"Do you always stroke that slow?" I asked softly.

"I always start slow," he said. "The closer I get the faster I need to go."

"Okay," I said stupidly, wondering how many lines it would cross to tell him I teased my clit the same way.

He kept stroking and it suddenly occurred to me that I could see what he was doing a lot better if I sat up.

"Let me give you a better view," I said, sitting up. "To help you."

"Thank you," he said. "I love looking at your breasts. At all of you really. Your nipples look delicious."

I felt my belly tighten at that phrase, and I resisted the sudden urge to lean forward and push one of my tight nipples against his mouth.

"They're really sensitive when I'm horny," I whispered, blurting out the first thing that came into my mind.

"They're so stiff," he whispered. "They must really be sensitive right now."

"They are," I said, taking them in my hands and rolling each nipple so he could watch, pulling on them and feeling my cunt throb with need.

"Jeezus fuck," he said.

His hand started to move even slower, and I realized that he was savoring this experience. And for some reason that made me so horny that I almost moaned.