When Home Grown is Best

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A son begs his mother not to go out for the evening.
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Moondrift
Moondrift
2,278 Followers

Ann finished her shower and pulling on her bathrobe she went to her bedroom. There she took off the robe and naked stood looking at her self in the long mirror. Her face contorted into a grimace of self deprecation. "Who could love me?" she muttered ruefully.

It was true; she was not the most attractive of women. At forty one she had lost her once slim figure, now her waist was thicker, hips and thighs heavier. Only her large breasts retained some of their original firmness and their nipples were still a soft pink.

It was her breasts that drew the attention of men and so that was what she emphasised. The problem was she only seemed to attract the most undesirable types of men; those with failed marriages behind them and the sad sack types who had never married because no woman would have them.

"I always get the bottom of the pile," she told herself.

Ann certainly had problems. To begin with she was a single parent with a son, the result of a brief liaison when she was eighteen. The guy had been a smooth one; he told her that he loved her and would marry her, and so it was alright if her fucked her, which he did enthusiastically until she announced herself pregnant.

It was then he disappeared off her radar screen. The social welfare people eventually found him. He'd gone back to his wife and kids, but they made him pay a paternity allowance. The money was great, but it was nowhere near enough to meet all the bills.

Ann had given birth to Craig and lived on with her parents for a while, but eventually she decided that she had to become a mature adult and live with some degree of independence. She took any job she could get, cleaning, waitress, serving behind a hotel bar, even posing as a photographic model until she started to put on weight.

At first she enjoyed the men ogling her, trying to look down the top of her dress to see her breasts, but in time this palled and she came to see these men as a "sick lot of perverts."

The difficulty was that Ann was very libidinous and was honest enough to admit she needed lots of sex, and lots of sex she got, but from her point of view always with the wrong sort of men.

The problem was that like a lot of women, she wanted that potent mixture of love and sex, but that can be very hard to come by for a woman in her position. Men might declare their love, but the moment they learned that she had a child love seemed to fly out of the window.

When money was tight she had even considered going "on the game," but that was dangerous for a freelance. The people who ran the brothels and prostitute rings didn't like the freelancers, and Ann had seen the results; women whose faces looked like a raw steak in a butcher's display.

As for working for the brothels or one of the rings, she was fastidious enough to not fancy having to take on all comers for half hour stints or rough fucking in the back of client's cars. In any case she wasn't really the type they liked to take on. They preferred girls and women who had a drug habit they needed to feed, or university girls needing money badly for their studies. Those were the sort they could control.

Craig had experienced a few "uncles." None of them had lasted, but these experiences had left him in no doubt about his mother's sexual behaviour, even though in recent times she had kept it away from home. He nevertheless knew where she was going when she went out in the evening. It would be to some cheap motel or hotel room, of if she was lucky and the guy had a room of his own, or his wife was away, she might get the luxury of a comfortable double bed.

* * * * * * * *

Still looking at her self in the mirror Ann spat out, "Slut."

She had a date that night with her latest lover, although "luster" might be a more appropriate description of what would take place between them. They had dated a few times and the pattern was always the same, a few drinks at a hotel bar and then upstairs to a room rented for a couple of hours.

Ann sighed and said to herself, "Who could love a tart liker me?"

Saying that it occurred to her that the only person who sincerely loved her was her son Craig. Aware of her behaviour he had never once reproached her. It was as if he understood her need for sex and that in it she desperately sought for her other need, love.

Ann often thought it was remarkable that he had turned out as well as he had. He had never been in any bad trouble and had done exceptionally well at school. Now engaged in tertiary studies Ann had scrimped and scraped to find the money to let him engage in further studies, and with the money Craig made working evenings in fast food outlets, they just got by.

He had grown to be a fine looking young man and Ann dearly loved him. In fact Ann often thought that if she had been twenty years younger and Craig not her son, he was just the sort she would liked to have married; but he was her son and she wasn't twenty years younger.

Ann loved children and would liked to have had more, but only within the marriage bond. Now at forty one that seemed a very remote possibility.

Ann sighed and turned away from the mirror. She had to decide what to wear. Guys often wanted to strip her, but they didn't like to have to wrestle with some of the complex clothing women wear, and she knew that the man she was going to meet liked to keep it simple.

She chose her flimsiest bra and some panties with a soft gusset. The gusset she hoped would keep some of the surplus juices at bay after they had finished, and might stifle some of the after sex smell.

Men seemed to like women wearing red, and so she chose her one red dress with a zip up the back; that would be easy to get off. Net stocking and high heel shoes completed the outfit, and picking up her handbag she put a packet of condoms in it and some tissues.

She had learned her lesson the first time she got pregnant and now, even when a guy said he'd had a vasectomy, she insisted on a condom being used. The only time she would ever allow a man to take her with his penis uncovered was in a martial bed, and that seemed increasingly unlikely.

She always lubricated heavily during sex, and the tissues were to cope with that and the semen after the sex.

* * * * * * * *

It was a warm evening and so she decided against a coat and made her way to the kitchen to let Craig know she was on her way out.

She found him sitting at the kitchen table dressed only in shorts and engaged in taking notes from a book. He glanced up as she came in and then returned to the book.

Ann was early for her date and so she sat at the table killing time and looking at Craig. As she sat he glanced up again, held her gaze for a few seconds and then once more returned to his book.

Without looking up he said softly, "Don't go out tonight mother."

Surprised Ann said "What?"

Now he looked up at her appealingly and repeated, "Please mum, don't go out tonight."

"Craig, I've got an appointment, I can't just not keep it."

"Break it mum, don't go."

"But...but why...why?"

"It's...it's just that I don't want you to go...to go to him."

"How do you know it's him?"

"Because it always is, and you're too good for the life you lead."

"Too good...too...I thought you understood what I need. I've got to have something Craig, I need something, I can't be a sainted nun; I've got a woman's needs."

"I know mum, but just this once don't go. If you don't go this time then the next time it'll be easier and after that easier still; you don't really need to go."

"But I do need to go Craig; I'd go crazy if I didn't...didn't...." She paused trying to find an acceptable word and finally said, "If I didn't get some loving."

"It isn't loving you get," Craig said, "You know it isn't. It's just horny guys who use you."

"All right," Ann retorted, her voice rising, "They use me, but I use them as well."

Craig sat staring at her and Ann rose agitatedly, and turning away from him she went to the kitchen sink. There was a single coffee cup waiting to be washed and knowing full well that Craig would wash it in due course she snapped, "You might do your own washing up," and proceeded to wash the cup with exaggerated actions.

"It might not be love," she said in a stifled voice, "but it's better than nothing."

She felt rather than heard or saw Craig rise and come up behind her, and then his arms were round her waist and she felt a warm kiss pressed against the back of her neck.

"You can have love here, mum," Craig whispered his lips close to her ear.

"Not the sort of love I need," Ann said thickly. She was a woman easily aroused and she was already feeling the warning signs.

"You can have the sort of love you need here, if you'll let me, mum."

Ann made an effort to break away from him crying out, "No...no...you know we can't...it's...it's..."

He was too strong for her and his grasp too firm and she felt the pressure of his erect penis against her plump buttocks. He partially released her to pull down the zip of her dress. She had worn it to make it easy for the guy she was to meet to remove and that was exactly what happened, the dress dropped to the floor at her feet.

"Stop it Craig," she cried out frantically, "you mustn't do this to me."

Craig made no reply as he unclipped her bra which quickly joined her dress on the floor. His hands closed over her breasts and began to fondle them, his fingers gently pinching her nipples.

"Oh don't...please don't Craig; you don't know what that does to a woman..." Ann cried.

"But I do know," Craig replied, "that's why I'm doing it. You want love and that's what I'm going to give you."

As if to reinforce his words Ann felt one of his hands start to stroke along the gusset of her panties.

"No...no...please don't...I can't...I can't..."

It was too late. His fingers were exploring beneath the gusset, stroking her already wet cleft. She was past that pivotal point between resistance and submission, and being the highly sexed women she was she made no further struggles, but she still tried to verbally protest.

"Darling please...please...you don't understand...we can't...we can't..."

Craig tugged down her panties, and then Ann heard the soft sound as the zip of his shorts was pulled down, and then his hard penis was between her thighs. She made one final wailing protest, "Don't do it...don't do it to me..." but he gently bent her over and she felt him probe for and then find the entrance to her vagina.

He groaned as he felt her warm wet tunnel engulf his penis and he thrust in deep. His hands were over her breasts and his lips pressed to the back of her neck as he started to pump in and out of her.

All resistance gone Ann caught his rhythm and started to push back against his inward thrusts. The inarticulate cries that only lovers in ecstasy can interpret began. They worked up into a frenzied state until, now standing upright behind her, his hands on her hips and dragging her onto him, Craig cried out, "I'm coming mum...I'm coming..."

"Yes...yes darling...oh yes...let it go...in me...in me...aaah-ow...ah...Oh god, God, God...yes...deep...deeper..."

She screamed as she felt the first spurt of his semen beat against the top of her vagina, and with each succeeding surge Craig cried out, "I love you...I love you..."

For a few moments Ann thought she was going to pass out from sensory overload, her legs could barely hold her up, and her head was spinning as Craig thrust his young sperm into her. For all the men she had experienced nothing had been like this. It was love and at last she was experiencing its overpowering energy.

Craig finished, but for a while Ann continued to thrust back onto his slackening penis, sobbing, "Oh my darling...oh my darling...so good...so good.

* * * * * * * *

It was over and Craig drew Ann upright. Her legs nearly gave way under her, but Craig supported her, holding her close. There was no sense of guilt, no loathing that had often followed her other sexual experiences, only a wonderful sense of fulfilment and peace.

"You won't need to go out tonight, will you?" he asked.

"No darling, I don't think I'll need to go out tonight, or any other night. Pass me my handbag please."

Making sure that Anne was supporting herself, her hands clasping the edge of the sink, he went to the table and returning with the bag he handed it to her.

She opened the bag and took out the tissues and as she did so she saw the packet of condoms. A shiver of apprehension passed through her, but then she thought, "At my age it's probably not possible anymore."

She mopped up Craig's sperm that was now starting to ooze out of her vagina. She smiled inwardly thinking, "If the amount of sperm he pumped into me counts for anything, then he's made me pregnant ten times over," but she knew it didn't work that way.

She dropped the sticky tissues into the waste disposal bin and said, "I think I'll have to have another shower."

Craig touched her breasts with his hands and kissed her, and as if unsure that he had made the point, he said, "You know I love you mother."

Ann nearly burst into tears again. Men said they loved you before they had come, but afterwards...?

She returned his kiss and said, "And you know I love you."

* * * * * * * *

She was oddly shy about showering with Craig. He would see her body properly, the slight swell of her stomach, her hips and thighs and the small marks that had come with his birth and had never quite faded. There is no doubt he saw them, but this was the body of his mother and for him she would be for ever beautiful.

When later, and encouraged by Craig, they lay in the 69 position, his penis in her mouth and his tongue in her vagina, she had wondered at his desire for her. They came simultaneously as if in complete tempo with each other. As he spurted his seed into her mouth he licked up the copious flow of the female juice she was discharging. This she had never allowed with anyone else, but with Craig it seemed perfectly natural.

Later still he took her again, pumping more of his seed into her vagina, she wondered at his potency, his ability to fill her again. She was to learn that this potency was no passing thing; it was to persisted in every succeeding night.

At last she had found what she had been seeking, and for her home grown love was the best.

The doctor assured her that a lot of women were delaying having children until their late thirties and even early forties, and he could see no reason why she should not give birth successfully. She did give birth successfully to a daughter and to her amazement a son a little over twelve months later. As far as Ann was concerned she and Craig shared the marital bed and that meant no condoms.

Ann is now in her fifties and Craig in his thirties, and as far as I can tell they are as ardent as ever, something that cannot be said of most couples. I wonder if this has something to do with their being mother and son? Who knows, but it does seem that home grown love is the best.

Moondrift
Moondrift
2,278 Followers
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16 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 1 year ago

How is 41 old.Most women nowadays at 40 look better than 20 year olds.60 year old women who work out look 40.Would be nice if these storytellers would know more about women these days instead thinking over 25 is old.Living in your mom's basement does not allow for any human contact so they might not know any better.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

HOT!

Ed

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 3 years ago
Rape!

Horrible!

ROCKY70ROCKY70over 4 years ago
NICE STORY !!! ^*!^*!^*!

Easy to read, well written........THANKS for the read

Dawnspell8Dawnspell8over 5 years ago
Incest...is there a test?

Nicely written and simply stated.

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