tagIncest/TabooSpending My Summer Stripping My Mom

Spending My Summer Stripping My Mom


Son spends his summers stripping and groping his drunken mother.


Twenty years ago, when I was twenty-years-old and my Mom was forty-years-old, it was the perfect storm for incest. Back then, my Mom was a single mother and I lived alone with her. The opportunity presented itself when she'd go out back to sit in the hot sun drinking. Passed out drunk, I'd take her inside.

"Mom, wake up," I remember saying to her, while gently shaking her. "It's time to come in the house. You're getting red all over like a lobster."

"What? Huh? Leave me alone, Jimmy. Go away," she slurred. "I'm sleeping."

Jimmy was her ex-boyfriend. I'm Sam, her son. She calls me Sammy, when she's been drinking, before she gets drunk. She calls me Sam all the other times, except for when she's mad at me for something I did. Then, she calls me Samuel. She always calls me Jimmy, when she's drunk, and whenever she's drunk like this and thinking that I'm Jimmy, is when I can cop the most feels and see more of her than a son should ever feel and see of his mother.

With no man to protect her, I couldn't even keep her safe from myself. Just as she trusted all the men in her life not to take advantage of her, they did anyway. Just as she trusted me not to take advantage of her, I did, too. Was there no one for her to trust, not even me?

Even though I was her beloved son, her only child, I was no better than any of the lowlife men who had used, abused, and fucked her over. While plotting how to see her naked, I planned what to do when I did see her naked. While plotting how she could see me naked, I planned what to do when she did see me naked.

Consumed with forbidden and inappropriate thoughts of having incestuous sex with her naked body, I couldn't help myself. With her body so hot, her short, red hair, and her big, blue eyes, she was so pretty and I was so horny. When the opportunity presented itself to see my mother naked and to touch her naked body, I was too excited and too weak not to have incestuous sex with my Mom.

"Mom, come on inside," I said lifting her up and grabbing a free feel of her big boob, while lifting her and supporting her.

She has great tits, C cuppers with big nipples that are all natural, none of that fake silicon shit. Every time I see that commercial, 'Got Milk', I can't help but think of sucking my Mom's tits.

"Leave me alone, Jimmy. I just want to sleep."

"It's okay, Mom. I have you," I said cupping her sweet ass in helping her too her feet.

It took all the self-control I had not to pretend I was Jimmy. I wondered what she'd do, if I had. I wondered if she'd give me hot sex or if she'd know that I wasn't Jimmy, but her son, Sam.

"Jimmy, put me down. I need a drink," she said slurring her words.

I love my Mom's body. She's so drunk that she'll never remember that I copped a feel of her tits and/or her ass, while helping her in the house. She still has a flat stomach and a toned body from all the working out she did over the years, from gymnastics, to ice skating, to dancing, to swimming, to pole dancing, no one would believe her age.

My favorite part of her body, believe it or not, is not her firm tits or her round ass or her trimmed pussy, but that gentle indentation by her waist that turns in before sloping out to her hips. Wow, I just love how that feels. It's so sexy. She's so sexy. When I walk with my Mom, I love resting my hand there and I think she likes it, too, because she never brushes it away.

I love when she wears her bikini. She has dozens of them in every color and style. Every time she's drunk in the way she is now, I'd take her in the house and undress her. She never said anything to me the next day. I don't think she knew I undressed her and put her to bed. She was so drunk that I don't think she remembered anything.

Only, wouldn't it be wild, if she knew? Wouldn't it be wild, if she got off with me stripping her, seeing her naked, and touching her? Wouldn't that be something, if she pretended that she was so drunk, that she allowed me to put the moves on her?

"Nah, this is my Mom. She'd never do that. She's not like that."

Before I stripped her, my favorite thing to do was to feel her through her bikini. Always, I felt her nipples through her bra respond to my touch of her tits. Before I removed her bikini, I enjoyed pretending she was in her panty and bra, instead of in her bathing suit. Sexy lingerie was more erotically exciting to pretend my Mom was wearing than swimwear.

I even pretended that she was a stripper in her stripping days and I was a paying customer. I pretended she was giving me a private, sexy, striptease show, and a lap dance. I know it's wrong to lust over my Mom, but I can't help it, especially when she's like this, nearly naked and passed out drunk.

"Dance for me, Mommy," I'd say to myself, when masturbating of the thoughts of her being the stripper and me the customer.

I could say that it wasn't my fault. Just 20-years-old, I could say I was too young to know any better but, in the eyes of the law, I was a grown man. Back then, other than my Mom, I had never been with a woman.

She kept me sheltered. She kept me for herself. She treated me as if I was a boy instead of a man. No doubt fearing that I may find a girlfriend, get married, and forsake her for another woman, she was afraid to let me go out into the world.

"Stay with me Sam. There's a reason why you can't find a job. God wants you take care of your mother. Don't worry about money. I'll give you whatever you need."

I needed and really wanted a car, but I was afraid to ask her for that. Definitely, I'd feel as though I was taking advantage of her, if I asked her to buy me a car. Besides, I'd rather get a job and buy my own car, but my Mom needed me.

My Mom was the first woman I saw naked. My Mom was the first naked woman I touched. She was the first woman who saw me naked. She was the first woman who touched my naked body. I had sex with my Mom and I'm not proud of it. Incorrigible in my incestuous desire for her, even after twenty years, the odd thing is that, if she asked me to have sex with me again, I would.

I remember watching her sleep when she was drunk and unconscious. When she's sleeping, she never awakens. I could do and have done everything and anything to her, while stripping her naked. I remember being so nervous the first time I stripped her. I was so afraid, she'd wake up. I was so afraid, she'd be mad when she woke up the next day, but she never said anything. She must have known I put her to bed. She must have known I stripped her naked and I always wondered if she knew that I had touched her, felt her everywhere. How could she not know?

Back then, twenty years ago, my favorite thing to do was to strip my Mom naked and I couldn't believe that I got away with stripping her naked so many times, dozens of times. Granted, it was easy to do, when all she was wearing was a bikini and when she had too much to drink. Yet, I was so nervous stripping her that I'd think every time was the last time. Every time, I figured she'd know that I stripped her and touched, fondled her, and caressed her. I figured she'd be mad at me the next day. Every time, I figured she'd wake up and catch me doing something so forbidden and inappropriate to her drunken body, but she never did.

The first time, all that I did was take off her clothes and stare at her. I remember thinking she was so beautiful and her body was so lovely. If I had one of those digital cameras, back then, that they have today, I would have taken some hot, sexy photos of her naked body, but I wouldn't have shown them to anyone. For sure, I didn't want my friends to think that me perverted because I lusted over my Mom.

What would my friends think if they knew that I was stripping my Mom naked and touching her and feeling her everywhere? No one ever knew that I stripped my Mom naked. No one ever knew that I had my way with her. It was my insanely perverted secret and I shouldered all of that guilt myself for all those years.

The first time I undressed her, I was so careful, so nervous, and so excited that it took me forever to strip her. I kept thinking that she'd wake up. I was so afraid that she'd catch me. What would I possibly say to her as a reason for stripping her?

Gradually, the more that I stripped her, the more that I felt of her, that is, until I really took a gamble and started getting in bed with her naked. Spooning her, I used to press my naked body against hers. I used to pretend she was my girlfriend and I was her lover. I remember my cock was so hard from having our naked bodies pressed so close together. I loved rubbing my cock against my Mom's naked ass, parting her cheeks, and rubbing it against her pussy.

Sometimes I jerked off, while in bed with her. I've even shot cum on her naked ass, but I always clean it up real good afterwards. How would I explain her having cum on her ass, when it's only her and me in the house? I was always so careful. I was always so nervous. I was always so excited.

Incest is such a magnetic connection. Stronger than any drug on the market, incest is something that makes me feel so excited before I act on my incestuous thoughts and makes me feel so depressed after I do. Why is the connection so strong? Why must incest be so wrong?

Why must I be so tortured with thoughts of wanting to see my mother naked? Why does it excite me to think about exposing my cock to her? Why must I be paralyzed with the urge to touch her and for her to touch me?

What's wrong with me? What's wrong with her? Even though I know I'm not normal to have these feelings, as soon as I think about my Mom's body, I don't care about being normal or not. As if a junkie needing another fix that makes me feel oh so good before feeling oh so bad, I just want her.

Why? Why? Why? I know it's deeply rooted and according to Freud, all men want to sleep with their mothers, but we're not animals living in a cave. We're rational beings living in a society that frowns on incestuous sex.

With so many questions surrounding the issue, I find myself not wanting to know the answers. Maybe I'd stop using and abusing my Mom if I knew why I lusted over her. Maybe the answer is simply seeing her naked and touching her naked body feels good. Maybe the answer is simply her seeing me naked and her touching my naked body feels too good to want to stop. Maybe that's the answer in a nutshell, incest just feels good and I can't stop. Maybe I just don't want to stop.

I was so horny from the touching that the touching quickly escalated to me having real sex with my sleeping mother. I started putting my cock in her unconscious hand and when I wrapped my Mom's fingers around my cock, she involuntarily squeezed my cock enough to give me sufficient pressure for me to move my hips back and forth and pretend she was giving me a hand job. The act of my cock in her sleeping hand actually felt, as if she was giving me a drunken hand job. Her hand job made me so horny that I thought I'd try something new. Taking it to the next level, I put my cock by her mouth and rubbed it along her lips, while imagining my Mom was giving me a blowjob.

"Jimmy," she said with slurred speech, as soon as I touched her lips with my cock.

There she goes again thinking that I'm her ex-boyfriend. Immediately, I withdrew my cock and hid it with my hand, but she was still out. If she awakened, I didn't want her to see me standing there with an erection. I remember being as nervous, as I was excited. I watched her for a few minutes to make sure she was still sleeping. I felt her tit and fingered her nipple to make sure. She was out alright.

Then, I did it again. I ever so lightly rubbed my cock along my Mom's lips and she did something that surprised me.

"Oh, Jimmy, baby, you're back."

She parted her lips and licked the head of my cock with her tongue. Oh, my God. I couldn't believe it. My Mom licked my cock. It felt so good for her to touch my cock with her tongue.

Then, she parted her lips and opened her mouth just enough for me to slide the head of my cock in her mouth. Afraid she may bite down on my cock, I couldn't believe I was partially sticking my erect cock in her sleeping mouth. The more that I stuck my cock in her mouth, the wider she opened her mouth to except more. Then, when most of my cock was in her mouth, finally, I couldn't believe I had my cock in my Mom's mouth. I couldn't believe my Mom was giving me a drunken blowjob. The sight of my cock in my mother's mouth was something I'll never forget and an image that I masturbate over, even today, so many years later.

I could feel her tongue surround my cock. Then, she wrapped her fingers around my cock and stroked me, while blowing me, all the while her eyes were closed and she was still sleeping. Maybe she was having a dream about Jimmy, but whatever, who cares? My Mom was blowing me. My Mom had my cock in her mouth and was sucking me.

It took all the control I had not to say, "Suck me, Mommy. Suck my cock, Mom. Blow me, Mommy."

"Jimmy, I love sucking your cock," she said still with her eyes closed, as if she was dreaming.

She really thinks I'm Jimmy. She thinks I'm her ex-boyfriend.

"Cum in my mouth, Jimmy. Give me some of your sweet protein filled, passion juice."

Oh, my God, my Mom wants me to cum in her mouth. Filled with the thought of cumming in my mother's mouth, never have I felt such excitement. With that, she was really sucking me now. My Mom was really blowing me. With her the one giving birth to me and bringing me into this world, how appropriate was it for my mother to be giving me my first blowjob?

I could say that I had been the one that was used and abused, I was, and I'd be right. I could say that I was the victim, I was, and I'd be right. Only, at the time, I took full responsibility for my actions, but that still didn't stop me from trying to see her naked again and that still didn't stop me from trying to have sex with her again. Admitting that it was all my fault still didn't stop me from exposing myself to her. Promising myself that I'd never touch her again, still didn't stop me from touching her and having my way with her again and again.

I wasn't thinking straight. I was confused. Possessed by the devil, I was possessed by the sexual desire I had for my Mom. Horniness and incestuous lust took over my mind. Sexual frustration and incestuous desire made me do things I'd never ordinarily do. That's my defense and I'm sticking to it.

It was a time when I was just becoming a testosterone filled, horny man and my Mom was going through a tough time. Except for one another, we had no one to make us feel better. We had no one to satisfy our sexual needs. With her not working and living off her first husband's life insurance settlement, I lived out in the boondocks with her. Without a car and unable to find a job in the depressed economy then, that was no better than the depressed economy now, ripe for what happened and for what we did, we were always alone and always together. Still that was no excuse.

Back then, in big red letters, I had loser written across my forehead. Yet, my Mom was always there telling me not to get a job and to stay home with her. She told me not to worry about the money. She kept giving me money for me to stay home to care of her. She didn't want to be alone. She was afraid what she'd do if she was alone. She feared another man would take advantage of her and take all her money. She asked me to protect her. Instead, I used and abused her. I was evil. I was a bad son.

It was a time when we were both vulnerable. If you said we were both victims, you'd be right. If you said we were both at fault, you'd be right. This is the true story of how our incestuous relationship started and what happened to us twenty years ago, one, hot summer.

It was always the same. Everything time she was drunk, two or three times a week, I'd strip her. Every time I stripped her, she thought I was Jimmy.

"Fuck me, Jimmy. You're hard enough. Ram that big cock in my wet pussy," she said still with her eyes closed and slurring her words. "Fuck me baby. Fuck my pussy. Give me that big cock."

My Mom reached up for me and kissed me, French kissed me. I couldn't believe it. Never had I French kissed a woman before. Never had I French kissed my mother before. Then, she pulled me down on top of her and I mounted her. With her still sleeping, with her dreaming, with her still thinking that I was Jimmy, I mounted my mother. Still with her eyes closed, I felt her hand reach down, find my cock, and direct it inside her pussy. She was wet. She was so very wet.

"Fuck me, Jimmy. Fuck me, baby."

Slowly at first and then more forcefully, I was fucking my Mom. My first time getting laid, it was my Mom who broke my cherry. Then, I started banging her, really pounding her body. The first time I fucked my Mom, I exploded cum in her pussy, almost as soon as my cock was inside of her. Then, with each time we made love, I stayed hard longer, until I was finally able to satisfy her, as well as myself.

"Jimmy. I'm going to cum. Jimmy don't stop. Sweet Jesus, I'm going to cum baby."

I love my Mom, in more ways than how a son should love his mother. I know it's not normal. I know it's not natural, but I have a thing for my Mom. I always have. I know it's wrong but I couldn't help myself then and I can't help myself now. She excites me in the way that a mother should never excite her son.

She's hot. Definitely, she's a MILF, even now that she's sixty and no longer forty. Only, it'd be no fun having sex with her, unless she was a willing lover. Back then, I figured she'd never have sex with me, her own son. I was wrong.

I was okay with her not wanting me in a sexual way and I kept my feelings for her in check most of the year. I didn't have those incestuous thoughts, as much about her in the fall and in the winter, as I did starting in the spring and coming to a boil during those hot, sleepless nights in the summer. As if a switch that comes on with the sunshine, my sexual thoughts for her blossomed in the spring and, in a volcano of lustful desire, they erupted in the summer. The summer is when I had the hardest time keeping my thoughts, my eyes, and my hands off my Mom and my cock out of my Mom.

Even thinking about her naked now makes me horny. The thought of her on her knees and sucking my cock makes me want to masturbate. I still go to bed dreaming about making love to her and I awaken horny for her. It doesn't help that I start my day with an erection and must masturbate, for me to quell my incestuous lust for her, while thinking about having sex with my Mom. The only thoughts that get me off, when masturbating, is when I think about having sex with my Mom.

Maybe it's the hormones, but it's the warmer weather that drives me mad with lustful desire for my Mom. For one thing, she wears less clothes in the summertime. Definitely a contributing factor was her showing more skin. She was never modest about her body and nudity. In her defense, I don't think she realized how much skin she was showing me. Teasing me without realizing it, I don't think she realized how showing me bits and pieces of her naked body affected me, whenever I saw something of her that I wasn't supposed to see.

She used to think of me as her little boy, her little man, and she wasn't as careful in her dress and as modest around me, as she would had been with any other man. That's probably it. She never thought of me as a horny man with sexual needs and desires, but I was and still am.

"You're little man, Mommy, at 20-years-old, is fully grown. Hoping you'll suck it and fuck it one day, you're little man has a big cock, Mommy. You're little man wants his Mommy, really wants his mommy bad," I'd say out loud while stroking my cock. Sorry, I only get like this, when masturbating, while thinking of having sex with my Mom.

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