The Definition of Incest

Like everyone in the world, I was frustrated at being unable to work or socialise. However, I felt I had the best life overall. I had space, privacy, a lot of time for porn and masturbation, and I had Jason.

We slid into a routine of breakfast together, lunch together, dinner together and in the evenings we trawled through every subscription streaming service and watched movies, series and documentaries together.

It was wonderful. Amazingly, it was like he was two people to me. He was my son and a companion that I felt a strong personal connection with. When I entered my bedroom, our relationship changed. In my head and my fantasies, he was the love of my life. Inspired by porn and the chat world, he was my lover. The two people never merged. My mind kept them very much apart.

He had always been affectionate, and nothing changed as he got older. He kissed me in the morning, kissed me after lunch and kissed me goodnight, every night. He was also very giving of hugs and sometimes compliments.

When physically in my presence, he was just my son. In my bedroom, in my mind, he was my lover.

I am not sure if I felt a change in him when we were together. He did begin to hug me more, especially from behind when I was doing the dishes. We also sat very close together watching TV. He would sometimes lay on the couch with his head in my lap, and there were times I would place a cushion on his lap and rest my head on it and stretch out.

We began having more open discussions about each other. He told me about his social life, parties, university friends and girls he had dated. He even told me of a woman he had spent time with who was much older than him. In that conversation, he said, "No one is as beautiful as you, Mum."

I took that as a compliment, of course. He had always been a charmer. I guess I should have thought more deeply about that comment. The thing is, 'incest me' was never there, never present at those times. Incest me was in the bedroom, compartmentalised.

Later that night, I reflected on Jason's words, chatted for many hours online and enjoyed people fantasising about the fact that he thought I was so beautiful. That was very erotic to me. However, that was incest me.

The pandemic just seemed to roll on and on, as did the restrictions and the lockdown.

I enjoyed so much porn, so much chat and so much masturbation. I felt sexy. I stayed fit by walking a lot, despite the lockdown rules. I got into a routine of shaving my vagina to keep it smooth. Every night of chat was like a night of sex. I was preened and ready.

A few days after Jason had commented on me being beautiful, I was gripped by a rather long online sex chat. I was naked and alive with the passion of incest. There was a knock on my bedroom door. I looked at the time and it was 7:00 pm. Jason called out to check that I was ok. I made something up about a work colleague and slipped on some track pants and a robe. I closed off my chat and went into the real world.

Of course, I apologised to Jason as I hurriedly made us dinner. He said he was fine and had lost track of time in his studio. He slid his arms around me from behind and told me I was the best mother. I felt so enamoured of him. He just felt so good and was very sincere.

That night we enjoyed a few glasses of wine and watched a movie. I lay with my head on a cushion on his lap. He caressed my arm in an absent, sort of methodical way. It felt nice.

I looked up at him and smiled. He looked at me and then glanced at my chest. My robe had gaped. I am not sure if he could see my nipple, but he would have seen the swell of my breast. I apologised and pulled my robe in tight.

Jason looked into my eyes and said, "Mum, you are beautiful. I could not help but look at you."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead and said, "I love you, Mum".

I smiled and said, "Of course you do, and I love you too."

He looked deeply into my eyes and held a silence, a contemplative silence and then said, "No, Mum. I truly love you. I am in love with you."

My world stood still. I held my breath and finally whispered, "I am not sure what you mean."

He replied, "I love you, Mum. I love you, Janine. I am in love with you. If I was not damned by the fact that I am your son, I would leave no stone unturned to become your lover."

He went on, "I have agonised over my love for you for so long. I love everything about you, and it makes my life so difficult. I think of you every day in every way."

As he breathed those last words, a tear fell from his cheek and slid onto my lips. I was motionless. My head was filled with a million thoughts, none made sense. I opened my lips to say something. No words came as the tear continued its journey into my mouth.

I savoured it.

I sat up slowly and remained still for seconds that seemed like days. His voice came to me, "I am sorry, Mum."

I reached for him and held him. I pressed his face into my neck, and I said softly, "I understand."

We both sat still in a tight embrace. I felt his tears on my neck, and I moved my head back to search his tear-filled eyes. "I understand because I love you too," I said. "I have loved you for all of your life. And as your life has evolved, I have fallen in love with you."

I looked into his eyes and said, "I love you, Jason. I love you, son. I am in love with you."

He moved to kiss me, and I placed my finger on his lips. "No," I said.

He stared at me with a look of confusion, adoration, love, joy and pain.

I said, "No, Jason. I cannot. We cannot. We are mother and son. Everything in my being and all of my faith tells me we cannot. We cannot commit incest. I will not commit incest."

His face was flushed, then pale, and he said, "Mum, I love you and you love me."

I replied, "That is true. I love you deeply, and we will enjoy the love we feel, but we will not commit incest."

He began to speak, but I got my words in first. "Jason, we love each other and we are in love. I feel it as you do. I want to love you and I will love you, but we will not commit incest."

There was silence, and I kissed his cheek and whispered, "I love you. I will always love you. Say no more now. Go to bed. We will talk in the morning, and remember, above all, I love you."

I stood on trembling legs. I walked to my bedroom without looking back. I opened the bedroom door, closed it, locked it and sat on my bed and cried.

That night I did not masturbate.

Eventually, I lay on my bed. I felt such pain and I felt so much love. My pillow was wet with my tears and my body was numb. I wondered if life would be the same. I vowed it would be better. We would find a path through our love, somehow.

I awoke with the sun streaming in my window, and my mind relived the night before. The joy, the pain and the love. I put on my robe and opened my door. I stood still and listened and could hear nothing.

Slowly and quietly, I moved to the bathroom and locked the door. I removed my robe and entered the shower and let the water flood over my body. I cried once more.

My hands slid over my body as they always did when naked. I reached for the razor and shaved my vagina. The routine of shaving steadied me. I lathered my body and touched myself. My arms, my legs, my face, my chest, my breasts, my stomach and my vagina. Old feelings were strong, and the need to masturbate was intense. I rubbed my vagina and felt the pleasure, but I could not orgasm.

One word slipped quietly from my lips: "Fuck."

I turned off the water, dried myself, put my robe on and tied it tightly. I opened the door, and all was quiet. In my room, I dressed and composed myself. Then I walked into the kitchen, and there was Jason quietly drinking coffee. He looked like he had been fighting demons all night. I said nothing as I made myself a coffee.

He looked at me and said, "Mum, I love and adore you. I want you as the love of and in my life. I also respect you so much and understand. We will not commit incest."

I replied, "Jason, we will find a way through this. We will find a way to live comfortably and lovingly. I want to always be open with you. I want to discuss everything with you, especially our feelings. I feel so much pain, and I know you do too. We will be ok. Promise me you will always be honest with me and express your feelings."

He stood and said softly, "I will, Mum."

He kissed my cheek and made his way to the shower.

I am not sure if I felt better or worse or if I felt at all. I made breakfast and ate mine without him. He joined me and kissed my cheek again and said, "I love you."

I responded in kind.

He ate his breakfast. The room was silent. He stood and said, "Mum, can you come out to the studio, please?"

I followed him, and as we entered he moved a few of his paintings around and showed me one he had worked on recently. It was the most beautiful portrait of my face. Then he showed another of me, then another and then another. In total there were five paintings of me. Three were taken from photos and two, he said, from memory.

He told me that he is drawn to painting things of beauty and things that mean the most to him in life. All were laid out in front of me as we stood together. His hand reached for mine. I stared in wonder as our hands held tight. I turned into him and said, "You fill my life."

He replied, "And you fill mine."

As much as I wanted that moment to last, I just had to separate. With an awkward smile, I slowly left him and said lamely, "I will see you at lunch."

I thought all my tears were cried out, but another fell from my cheek.

I do not know what I did that morning. I was in a daze and my mind was a haze.

He came into the house for lunch as the rain began to stream down. I was standing at the sink watching it fall as he came to me and put his arms around me from behind. I flinched a little, and he whispered into my ear, "Surely we can still cuddle, Mum?"

I took his hands in mine and whispered back, "I would die if we did not."

We ate lunch together and the rain set in. We agreed to watch a movie and sat on the couch. I sat beside him as I always did. I said, "Jason, I want to lose nothing of our relationship. I want it to grow and be better."

He said nothing but placed his arm around me. We cuddled as comfortable lovers would cuddle, but there was tension.

Neither of us could focus on the movie. I turned it off and looked at him and kissed his cheek. He said, "Mum, I have always loved cuddling you and have always loved the kisses I share with you. Please tell me that will not change."

I smiled with warmth and replied, "No, my love, nothing will change for the worse because we are in love."

He kissed my lips gently, and I savoured his breath. He broke the kiss and said, "Is this ok?"

I replied, "When has a kiss not been ok?"

That day rolled along lazily, and we opened a bottle of wine. We sat on the couch as the rain poured down. We talked and we talked. I told him how proud I was of his art and how honoured I was. We talked of love, and we talked of our love for each other. We talked of when we knew, how we knew and how we felt.

He told me of the girls he had been with and how he enjoyed sex, but he felt he could only love me.

It was the most beautiful afternoon that turned into an evening. I felt his embrace and he felt mine. We kissed casually in the moments that seemed right.

It got quite late, and we were both drained from talking. I declared it time for bed, and he said, "One last thing, Mum."

I smiled and asked what that was.

He said, "I love kissing you. We have always kissed. I want to share a special kiss with you, a kiss that people in love share. Is that ok?"

I could not see any reason why it was not ok and nodded. He brought his lips to mine, we kissed, he opened his mouth a little and I felt the tip of his tongue on my lips. It felt good and it felt natural. I reciprocated that kiss, and our tongues met. We kissed softly, with love. It was not a kiss of passion but a kiss of love.

He broke the kiss and said, "I love you, Mum. Goodnight."

He left me feeling like I had touched an angel. "Goodnight, darling. I love you," I whispered to myself.

In my room, I locked my door. I turned on my computer and sat. Then I searched 'kissing' porn. I watched two hours of people just kissing and foreplay kissing before I had a wonderful orgasm.

As I lay in bed naked that night, I whispered into my pillow, "I love you, Jason."

I awoke before dawn and was struck by doubt and resolved to talk to Jason.

At breakfast, he entered the kitchen and kissed my cheek. "Jason," I said, "there is something I need to say." I paused and then continued, "This is a crazy time in the world. For weeks we have lived in a bubble. Just you and I. Living this way in these times makes us think differently and act differently. Maybe we should just move around this or past this thing between us. You are young, and I am not only twice your age, I am your mother. There are so many women and so many opportunities for you in this world. There is so much for you to explore when everything returns to normal."

He looked at me, smiled and said "Mum, this has been building for a long time. I have loved you all my life. I have compared you to others all my life. I have felt love for you all my life. This pandemic is not a situational thing that has brought about new feelings or abnormal thoughts in me. It is the catalyst that has allowed me to be the most honest and truthful that I have been in my entire life.

"Mum, we love each other, and this is our normal for now and forever."

I stood and walked to where he sat. I sat in his lap and placed my arm around his shoulder. I looked into his eyes, and I opened my mouth a little and we kissed. I slid my tongue into his mouth and felt his tongue with mine. They swirled gently and they danced, and we ate each other's breath. I felt his erection grow under me, and then our lips parted and I said, "That is how we kiss."

I moved off him and without another word walked to my bedroom. I closed and locked my door. I undressed and lay on my bed and masturbated.

Part of me expected Jason to follow me and knock on my door. Part of me wanted to let him into my room and kiss him more and more. But all was silent. My respect for him soared to new heights.

I found him in his studio a few hours later and handed him a cup of coffee. He asked me to leave and not look at what he was painting. He also said he would work through the day and skip lunch.

In the evening we dined together, and he avoided telling me what he was working on.

I had the fire on in the lounge, and it was warm. Jason went for a shower and returned in his track pants and t-shirt. He made all clothes look good.

I then had a shower and 'preened' myself.

I could not be bothered dressing so put on a long robe and joined him by the fire, and he offered me wine.

We talked quietly and then moved to the couch to watch a movie. We cuddled closely, and then he stopped it and said, "I can't watch this, Mum."

He virtually picked me up, and I slid into his lap. We kissed deeply as his hands gently roamed across my back and my legs -- a long, beautiful kiss, the kiss of lovers who crave to devour each other.

I could feel his erection under me.

I broke the kiss gently and inquired, "You have an erection. Do you need to do something about that?"

He laughed to himself and said, "You have given me so many erections throughout my life. Believe me, this is not new!"

We laughed together.

"Trust me," he said, "I know how to look after it, but it will wait."

We kissed again and again

.

We made out as only lovers can make out. Then his breathing became shallow. He stopped, froze and said, "Oh, Mum, I am sorry."

I quizzically looked at him, and he said, "I came."

I stammered, "Oh, are you ok?"

He then broke into a huge smile and said, "I am more than ok. I am feeling wonderful."

I smiled too and asked if he needed to clean up, and he said, "I may never clean up. That is the most beautiful orgasm I ever had."

Needless to say, I was very aroused and very wet. I held him tightly and then kissed him gently.

We parted and looked at each other, and I noticed him looking at my breasts as my gown was gaped. I went to close my gown, and he said, "Too late now, Mum."

He lifted his finger to his head and said, "I will just add it to the library of images of you that I have stored in my mind."

I gave him my incredulous mother look and asked, "How many images are there in that library?"

He replied, "Too many to catalogue, although the ones of me breastfeeding have long faded."

And then we laughed together. I slipped off him and filled our glasses. I was flushed with pride, passion and love. I sat beside him, and we were silent. Then he said, "Mum, when I was a baby, how long did I breastfeed?"

I replied, "Close to two years."

He then followed with, "And when I breastfed, did my hands sort of hold your breasts or touch them?"

I hesitated a moment as I looked at the wet cum patch on his track pants and answered, "Yes."

He then deduced, "So, I have sucked your breasts and held your breasts for nearly ten percent of my life."

I smiled and said, "Yes, you have."

"Was that incest?" he asked.

"Of course not!" I replied.

He looked at me earnestly and said "Mum, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and I have vowed never to commit incest with you, but I have sucked your breasts and touched your breasts and it was not incest. So...may I?"

I was so aroused. I felt manipulated, but also felt like a window opened a little and a gentle breeze blew in and fanned my arousal. I kissed him deeply and in doing so pulled gently on the lapels of my robe to expose my breasts. We broke the kiss, and I whispered, "Yes."

We held each other's eyes as his hand slowly moved to my right breast. His touch was like the feather of a dove. His fingers felt like the breath of an angel. They glided over me so softly, like a whisper. Then he cupped them oh so sensitively, like he was cupping a precious baby bird in his hand.

He breathed the word, "Beautiful."

He repeated the same movement with my other beast, but this time touched my nipple. It was hard, and it was sending sexual pleasure into my body like I had only ever felt from my clitoris. I moaned and he caressed me.

I closed my eyes and floated in a pool of pleasure.

I do not know how long he caressed me. I do not know how long he marvelled at my breasts. I do not know how long I floated in that pool. But when I came back to reality, he had manoeuvred his head into my lap and was sucking on my nipple and looking up into my eyes.

My hand instinctively went to his hair, and I caressed him and whispered, "My baby." As I uttered those words, my body shuddered and delivered me an amazing orgasm. I breathed deeply and caressed his hair as I descended from the plateau of pleasure. I could not do anything but smile and be surprised at how I could orgasm without touching my vagina!

He removed himself from my chest and looked into my eyes and kissed me. Then he said, "Mum, I could do that all night, but I do have something to take care of."

I looked at his lap, and the wet patch was drying a little, but his erection was very much apparent against the fabric of his pants.

I understood and closed my robe. He took my hand and led me to my bedroom. At the door, he eased me against the wall and kissed me, and as he did he pressed his erection against my body. "Goodnight, Mum," he said.

He walked to his room and as he did slid his hand into his pants. I went into my room and locked the door. I shed my robe and sat at my computer masturbating to breastfeeding and lactation porn for hours. Eventually, I was sated and slid into bed unconsciousness.