Working Class Man

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She was going a little grey at the sides and roots now, though she usually used a little colour to get rid of it. Her figure was still fantastic, even after four children, and I don't include myself. In the space of six years, we had four children. The first born was a daughter, then we had two more boys, before another daughter. After our fourth, Mum had her tubes tied.

Our family had long ago accepted our relationship. Any friends from before the time we became lovers and partners had now disappeared from our lives. We still lived in the same townhouse in the same neighbourhood. Our children had grown up in a household of love. We cherished each moment together, the lingering memory of my father meaning we wouldn't take anything for granted.

Our oldest daughter was thirteen, naming her Chloe. The day I'd held her in my arms for the first time, my mother gazing at both of us with unconditional love, was one of the best days of my life. I now had a second woman who owned my heart. Our two sons, Michael and Nathan, arrived very quickly, only fifteen months apart, Mum complaining that I was far too potent, while I retorted that I could just look at her and get her pregnant. Our youngest daughter, Cindy, was the apple of my eye and had both of us wrapped around her finger.

Sure, our home was sometimes a madhouse. The children had to share bedrooms but they didn't mind, the two boys being both brothers and best friends, while Chloe looked after Cindy almost like a second mother at times. It was weird not calling my mother 'Mum' any longer except when assured we had total privacy, like in our bedroom. She was now Lauren at all other times, though like she called me 'honey' or 'baby', she was now any variation of sweetheart.

It was late on a Saturday night. The kids were now upstairs in their rooms, time for bed. Chloe would complain that she was a teenager and could stay up later, but Cindy would grab her hand and ask her big sister to come keep her company. Chloe relented each and every time. Good thing is that Chloe did understand her parents needed a break, so while she'd argue all the time, she was a good girl and would eventually relent.

Mum moved to straddle my lap, kissing me softly, as she started to undo the buttons of her shirt. It was one of my business shirts, having progressed from mechanic to being the manager of the dealership. I now had a company car. I was making great money, more than enough that we could take the kids out on a weekend, even flying away for a holiday once every couple of years. We could have moved by now but didn't want to take the kids out of their school, away from their friends. Our townhouse was small, but it was cosy, and most importantly, it was full of love.

"You have plans for me, Mum?" I asked softly as the shirt fell off her shoulders, revealing her bare breasts. They still made my mouth water, even after all this time. She smiled as she felt my erection forming.

"I always have plans for my husband. It's Saturday night, the kids are in bed, and I'm really fucking horny right now."

"So you're suggesting I carry you to our bedroom so I can make love to my wife?"

"I'm not suggesting, honey. I'm telling." Spanking her butt earned a giggle. "You're still my son," she added sternly.

"I know, Mum. It's still a complete turn-on, even after all these years, to know I still make love to my mother and that she's had our children."

Leaning down to kiss me, I easily stood up, her limbs wrapping around me, as I carried her upstairs to our bedroom. We made love for hours. I was only thirty-four, nearly thirty-five, so more than capable of it, while Mum's sexual appetite was off the scale during her forties, her libido matching mine completely. Whenever we had a spare hour, we were at it like rabbits.

After filling her pussy a couple of times, we needed to wash quickly before I checked on the kids a final time. The two boys were already fast asleep. Cindy was also asleep, Chloe still awake, playing on her phone. She whispered, 'Goodnight, Daddy,' blowing her a kiss before I closed the door.

Returning to bed, I joined Mum under the blankets, her warm body spooned back against me.

"I love you, baby. My first-born son. I love the life we've shared. I knew I was right about us."

"Wouldn't change anything about my life, Mum. I'm with the woman I always wanted, and we both have the family we always desired."

She turned around to cuddle against my chest. "Think we'll have time to make love in the morning?"

"The door's locked. The kids are old enough to look after themselves. I'll just try not to make you orgasm too hard."

"Tease."

"I am because you love me."

Holding her tight, I could feel her smiling in the darkness. "Could always get my tubes untied and you can put another baby in me? It's possible even at fifty." The idea of putting another baby in her did turn me on, and she felt my erection. Her fingers grasped it gently. "I knew that idea would turn you on."

"Mum, when you were pregnant with our child... Holy shit, I wanted you even more half the time..."

"And you still love me despite the stretch marks and slightly saggy boobs."

"Still as beautiful today as the day we admitted our love for each other. We're growing older together, Mum."

"It's what I always wanted. My little boy in my life all the time."

Snuggling into me, she wished me goodnight before I knew she was fast asleep a couple of minutes later. Caressing her back, she murmured a couple of times, shuffling so as much of her body was against me as possible. We slept like that nearly every night, even in the summer.

I would sometimes lay there and wonder if life would have been any different had my father not died. I guess it doesn't really matter. I'd always loved my mother, and she'd admitted her love for me had always been different than anyone else. Maybe it was destiny or fate, I'm not sure. But I had no regrets about our life. I'd grow old alongside the woman I loved, watch our children eventually get older and leave home, leaving us to enjoy our golden years together again.

I was hopeful that our best days together were still to come.

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Nekomusume_DaisukiNekomusume_Daisuki15 days ago

I always chuckle at the people who complain a story is too long and drawn out... You can see the number of pages before you start, you know what you're getting into...

There were good parts and slightly less good parts (The mom making her move too soon and without any trepidation), but overall I liked it very much!

imadronG0imadronG024 days ago

sorry mate to long and drawn out

DadieODadieO5 months ago

Dang u write some pretty goid stories.

AnonymousAnonymous5 months ago

Thanks for taking the time and sharing your thoughts. The story started well, with the detailed description of all that happened between both mother and son, but... However, the story swerved rapidly off course and lost the slow pace of discovery between two people, the apprehensions and fears and, especially from the mother's point of view, it was as if she was primed to sleep with him.

I am sure that many found your story titillating, but I was put off by the mother 'offering' herself to her son. The human psyche is complex and there are certain social and societal constructs that inhibit certain behaviour. It requires an effort to overcome those barriers. The secret lies in overcoming those barriers in a way requiring self-conviction. This self-conviction comes after the logical brain (cortex) gives way to a sensual (primitive) connotation. Even when the barrier is crossed, it is the beauty of maintaining a balance between the two that can make the incestuous 'act' special.

You have put in a lot of effort in this work, and I wish you success.

AnonymousAnonymous5 months ago

I like any good fantasy that ends with hope and happiness. That's how they all should end.

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