The Burn

Author's Note: This is an entirely fictional tale based on some real life experiences. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. It contains sexually explicit scenes and romance between a consenting mother and son above the age of 18 along with references to recreational drug use. Long time reader here and first time creative writing in any capacity for me. The story takes its time so if you're here just for the erotic scenes you may want to skip ahead quite a bit. Hope you enjoy!

It all started when I was 19. The attraction, the obsession with fucking my mom. I had taken a gap year after graduating high school and was still at home, trying to figure out if college was the next step.

It was in the early days of bit torrent and p2p sharing and I was scavenging for every bit of porn I could find when I learned I had a milf fetish. File sharing was still the wild west back then with mislabeled files etc. and I stumbled upon Kay Parker... Clips edited together from Private Teacher and labeled "MILF Kay Parker fucks her own son."

In my haste to grab everything milf related I hadn't read the title until I clicked on it to watch. The low quality of film, Kay's nurturing behavior and the obvious age difference I was convinced it was real (it wasn't til a little while later I did a deep dive on Kay and discovered her extensive works, many taboo focused). At first I was slightly grossed out. I wasn't even really familiar with the term incest much less seeing it in practice.

But my body responded in a way I'd never experienced. My dick 'bout ripped a whole in my boxers and I found myself cumming almost immediately. I was blown away... I had never cum that hard before but it was also not without it's uncertain feelings. This was wrong. Forbidden. Taboo. I think that's what makes it so fucking hot...

I had never sexualized my mother before. I knew she was objectively attractive for sure but it had never crossed my mind to see her as sexually desirable. My friends sure had noticed and constantly teased me, calling her a milf etc. I just always laughed it off and chalked it up to them being as horny as I was.

But things started to change after I made my discovery. She never dressed very risque or anything but I sure took more notice whenever she wore something more form fitting, especially when gardening. I found myself lingering by the back window whenever she went out to do some weeding. I was always aware that I was spying on her and constantly berated myself for doing so. But I couldn't help it. I was quick to return to my room on such occasions for some me time.

It had always been just the two of us. I was an only child with a dead beat father living half way across the country so he was never much in the picture. Mom was in her early 40's and a single parent badass who worked hard and we lived very comfortably. She never put too much pressure on me. She was mostly concerned with me just being a good person more than anything else and was happy if I was happy. In retrospect I think this only added to my attraction.

She stood 5' 9" with straight, shoulder length raven hair and piercing blue eyes. A medium sized nose and thick, pouty lips. Slim in the waist with the slightest pot belly, thick thighs and a full heart shaped ass. She rode her bike to and from work and it really showed. But it was her tits that I was transfixed by. 36DD, perfectly round and symmetrical with just the right amount of sag. Mom tits in their truest form and none too dissimilar from Kay Parker's herself. I was constantly fighting myself to not stare every time they were in view.

I'll never forget the first time I saw her naked. It was several months into my obsession and I had become pretty adept at sneaking peaks here and there when I could but I was overly cautious about potentially getting caught so I never tried to push it.

We shared a 3/2 house with my mom having the master bedroom and bath. She liked for me to check in when coming home from socializing, to get a look at me and confirm I hadn't gotten into too much mischief. She wasn't naïve to the fact that my friends and I were most certainly partying but as long as I didn't get behind the wheel, she was cool with it.

She was a "I'd rather you call me for a ride home if you can't drive than get a call from the hospital or visit from the police." type of mom. I tried to never take that for granted and never drank on the nights I was expected home but I was usually a little stoned and told myself she couldn't tell but I bet she did.

I walked down the hall to her room, offering a hail as I came. As I got closer and she hadn't responded I noticed the sound of the shower. I hesitated, remembering how it was an old house and her bathroom door didn't close very well. We used a rubber stopper on the inside of the door for privacy as I had used her shower from time to time for it was far superior. She must not have bothered with it this time with me not being home. We would occasionally shout through the crack at each other about random house shit if one of us was showering but in this moment I remained quiet. I crept closer.

The shower was directly across from the door and it was a clear glassed stall. She had her back to me and a perfect view of her ass. She was slightly bent forward scrubbing her legs and I was instantly at half mast. She continued showering with her back to me for what felt like a full minute when I finally saw them in all their glory. She half turned towards me with hands running up through her hair, back arching and thrusting her chest out inadvertently as she washed out the last bit of shampoo.

I stood mouth agape as the sudsy liquid cascaded down and off her half dollar sized areolas. They were even more magnificent than I had imagined. I didn't even realize I was rubbing myself through my jeans until I almost went over the edge. I sprinted down the hall to my room and barely got undressed before I had the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced. Maybe three pumps on my dick and I came all over myself, not even taking time to grab a tissue.

I must've lain there for a full minute or two reveling in the ecstasy before I heard her shower switch off through the wall and I came to. I quickly cleaned myself off and put my jeans back on to go check in.

As I came down the hall I was trying my best to quell my potential awkwardness at what I had just done but as I approached, she was exiting the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around her. I had spoken to her before post shower and towel clad but never post indulgence of my attraction and

I tried my best to keep the check-in short and she seemed not to notice. I mumbled something about going to watch a movie and fall asleep to which she responded approvingly. Not before I jerked off another two times though.

My spying became fairly regular after that, always sneaking peaks whenever I could and hoping for glimpses through the bathroom door when she was showering but that didn't happen as often as I would've liked. I was as careful as ever to not get caught. I knew what I was doing was wrong on a basic level of trust and privacy but this was next level, her being my mother and if she ever found out what I was doing I could only imagine the level of disgust she would have for me.

We had a great and healthy relationship outside of my obsession and I never wanted to compromise that. But I started to behave differently around her, over compensating for my attraction to her. Hugs became less lengthy and goodbyes were shortened. She noticed enough to call me out on it, wondering if I was at that age where it was no longer cool to love your mom. I always laughed it off but she could tell I was acting a bit different.

I stopped sharing as much about my romantic life with her as well, in my delusion and obsession not wanting to make her jealous as if I actually had a shot at fucking my own mother. I also became noticeably less tolerant of my friends' passing comments about how hot she was and was quick to shut them down whenever they broached the subject. I don't think they ever picked up on the true source of my annoyance though and we were all sexually active at that point with steady girlfriends so I knew there wasn't any truth to their intended statements but it still bothered me.

As the next few few months passed and my habits became routine, I became more comfortable with my attraction and our normal rapport re-established itself which was fantastic for my spank bank. Hugs were now back to regular length and I was more open with her in discussing my social life. But I would occasionally risk a slightly harder squeeze when embracing or letting a hand linger on her lower back and I could never tell if she picked up on it.

During the middle of the spring of my gap year I finally felt the sense of urgency to get my shit together. Most of my friends had been away for school and I wasn't doing much but working a boring job and lusting after my mother. It didn't feel very healthy so I applied to several colleges and even got into a decent one, albeit two states over.

I was genuinely torn about moving away from the source of my extreme lust but convinced myself it was the sensible and healthy thing to do. There was no way my fantasy could become reality.

It was mid summer when I slipped up and she became aware of my attraction and obsession... For a celebratory gift for getting into college she had gotten me a digital snap shot camera, this was well before phones were as capable as they are now. I was pretty stoked on it too, snapping up shots of all the homies and good times before I left at the end of the summer.

I stopped by the house one afternoon to grab some swimming and camping gear to head out to the lake with the boys. My girlfriend and I had recently broken up, being realistic that I was going away to school in the fall so I was looking forward to letting loose a bit.

I wandered down the hall to my mom's room to let her know but I had learned to wait to announce my presence on the off chance she was in a state of undress. Creepy I know but I had normalized my behavior through routine.

Lo and behold, not only was she in the shower but she had neglected to deploy the door stop. I crept up for a peak as I had numerous times and began rubbing myself through my shorts. That's when my hand bumped the camera in my pocket... It had never occurred to me to spy on this level but I immediately seized the opportunity and fumbled the camera out and on.

She again had her back to me, I had become pretty familiar with her shower routine and managed to have the clarity to switch to video as she went for her final rinse. There they were as she rotated around in her half turn. It wasn't as spectacular as the first time (it never was), when she had seemed to pseudo super model pose for me but it would fucking do.

I ran back to my room and started to gather my camping gear. Not before blowing a massive load while reviewing my new footage though. I shouted my plans down the hall to her, I dare not look her in the eye after my dastardly deed. She responded her ascension as I headed out to my truck.

I could barely focus on being present that weekend at the lake and kept going to my tent to "take a nap" killing the batteries on the camera watching the clip of her in the shower.

About a week after the trip is when I discovered she knew. We shared a computer in those days and it was located in the third bedroom which we called the office. Neither of us did any actual work on it. I played a lot of video games and watched a lot of porn but was very careful to cover my tracks.

Clearing browsing history and hiding my stash within several folders, all titled something innocuous. She would occasionally use it for various tasks but it was mostly my domain. I got too comfortable with that.

I came home one afternoon to find her absent so I sauntered into the office to rub one out to her in the shower. I had grown tired of watching the clip on the back of the camera so I had downloaded it onto the computer and buried it deep in my porn folder which was mostly milf and mom/son incest at that point.

The first thing I noticed was the computer was on which meant she had used it that day. No cause for concern, I had covered my tracks last night when I was done using it. I killed the screen saver and was greeted with one open app. VLC player was open. That was odd, she usually didn't do much media viewing... my heart started to race a bit as I realized the implications.

Unless you close VLC entirely, it will play the last video you watched if you click the play button. I held my breath and clicked. The opening credits of Taboo 3 (a Kay Parker classic) started to play. Wait, what? I hadn't watched that in over a week. I hadn't watched anything else but the clip of her in the shower since I captured it. I hadn't wanted to or needed to. Then the horror started to dawn on me as I clicked the recently played tab and was confronted with the entire contents of my mom/son incest folder with the first video being the clip of my own mother in the shower...

How? How! Fuck... I must not have closed VLC when I used the computer last and she had clicked play out of curiosity, only to be greeted by a pervy clip of herself showering. That could only have been filmed by one person... I started to panic. She was savvy enough to locate a file easily enough and followed the shower clip to my entire incest treasure trove and subsequently raided it.

She knew. She knew I was a gross monster who wanted to fuck his own mother. She would disown me at worst and things would never be the same at best.

I had to get out of the house before she returned, no way could I face her in this state of utter shock and embarrassment. I drove to my closest homie's house to calm down and regroup. He was stoked enough to chill with me and let me crash for the evening but could tell something was off. I said I was hungover and he seemed to buy that. Now what to do about mom.

I had to at least let her know that I wouldn't be home that night but knew I couldn't actually speak to her in my state. What could she be thinking right now? That she had a total sicko for a son? I settled for a text and waited with baited breath. She responded almost immediately with a pretty generic "have fun, be safe" mom text. Not great, not bad. Time to sleep and think about how to play this.

After some less than restful sleep, I decided to just go home and play ignorant. Better to let her broach the subject, if at all. I was completely lost in my shame but managed to put up a chill front as I walked into the kitchen. She was finishing up some dishes and I seemed to startle her from some reverie as I approached, no doubt thinking about the filthy secret I'd been keeping. She recovered quickly though and seemed genuinely happy to see me.

That was a good sign. We made small talk about our day and that was it. No detectable change in our rapport, at least on her end. I was a nervous wreck but held it together well enough. We went about our lives as usual for the next few days but I was ready for the awkward hammer to drop in the form of "We need to have a talk". But it never did. I only had about a month of summer left so I just had to play it cool and not slip up again and I could distance myself from her and my lust.

At this point I had no qualms about leaving home, I knew my attraction wasn't healthy and was just relieved that her discovery hadn't blown up on me and ruined our relationship. Getting some distance would be good, I told myself. Maybe I was freaking out for no reason and she hadn't found the damning evidence after all but no, it definitely was her that had opened all those files that day and viewed the contents there in.

But there were noticeable changes in her habits that didn't help my uncertainty. They were subtle, but they were definitely there. A purchase of some more serious bike riding gear was the first thing I noticed. Body hugging spandex and sports bra for her daily commutes. She had always worn pretty boring t-shirts and shorts for her rides during the summer so this really stood out. I was so taken aback the first time she walked in wearing them one afternoon.

The painted on leggings framing her thick ass and the bra fighting to keep her massive tits at bay. I managed to choke out a lame joke about her prepping for the Tour de France all of a sudden and she laughed, claiming she had been thinking about stepping up her gear for a while. The new threads were way more comfortable and made her feel more powerful, giving me a spin and flexing a bicep. I tried not to let my eyes linger too long on any one part of her body but she was killing me!

I found myself finding excuses to be up early and see her off in the morning, watching through the window as she rolled down the driveway. Then retreating to my room to relieve myself, imagining peeling the sports bra off and burying my face in here sweat soaked cleavage.

Then there was the bra and panties I found hanging in the laundry room one day. Black lacy numbers, way more form than function. I had encountered her underwear plenty of times and was always careful to give it a quick inspection and nothing more. I knew that was a path to getting caught if she noticed her under garments missing, relocated or worse, soiled. These new pieces were something else entirely.

Incredibly revealing and semi sheer by the looks of them. She had never possessed anything on this level of sexiness before, at least that I was aware of, much less so casually displayed, hanging in the laundry room. My initial reaction was blind jealousy. Who were these for? Had she started seeing someone? She had dated men from time to time when I was growing up but nothing ever very serious and definitely not in the last 5 years or so.

I think the latter fact contributed to my overall possessive feelings towards her but of course never realized it. She was of course her own person, with her own sexuality but I had not had to consider her with anyone else since my fantasy had become so consuming. I was angry and jealous but also extremely turned on imagining her wearing them.

I went to my room to have a confused jerk sesh to calm down. And then I started to wonder... had she procured these sexy garments and left them prominently displayed for me to discover? If that was the case could she have, contrary to my wildest fears, been intrigued by the video stash? I was so thrown for a loop and decided I had to do some subtle digging to find out.

When she arrived home that evening I mustered up my courage and asked her about them as nonchalantly as possible, something like "What's up with the sexy stuff in the laundry room? Got a hot date?". She immediately flushed red and let out a nervous laugh.

Her two best friends Shelly and Rachel (smoking hot milfs in their own right) had apparently purchased them for her as encouragement to start dating again, seeing as how she was about to have an empty nest. She was embarrassed that she had left them hanging out for me to see and made a passing joke about me being the only man in her life.

I laughed it off as well but was still full of mixed emotions. If that was all true I was unjustifiably annoyed at Shelly and Rachel for wanting her to get back on the dating scene. They were quite a bit wilder than my mom and were not shy about their sexual proclivities. I had overheard many a late night conversation about their exploits after they'd had a few drinks around the fire pit in the backyard. I was pretty sure Shelly and her husband were swingers.

If however, my lingerie discovery was somehow orchestrated, I was more confused than ever. Could there be a chance? No, I decided. There was no way my mother was on the same level of sexual deviance that I was so I chose to believe her that they were a gift after all as to not let my fantasies run wild.