A mother surrenders to herself

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A surrenders to herself, incest sex stories, I’m not gonna go through the nonsense about this being a true story or not. All I can say is it’s a personal story that means a lot to me and after long consideration I’ve decided to share it with others who are like minded. This isn’t a porno in writing. This is about love and lovemaking in what we are raised to believe is the worst of places to find it. I’m still a bit mixed up about it so maybe I’m looking for support. Either way I hope you enjoy reading it and your comments are more than welcome.

’s eyes flickered open to the first rays of light creeping into her bedroom window through the sits of venetian blinds. Half asleep she shifted under the covers to the feel of the linen caressing her naked skin and suddenly, as if woken from a dream, a reality that should have only been a dream sank into her mind with unerring accuracy. Slowly as if to prepare herself for some horror or delight, she rolled her head to the side to see the young man still deeply asleep beside her. His adolescent clean skin gave a neat glow in the morning light and his unkempt hair was strewn along the pillow he laid his head on.

“Oh God…” She whispered almost inaudibly before closing her hands over her mouth in an afterthought to not make a sound. Charlene lay trying not to move; trying not to breath for fear that any stir might awaken her son David and force what she had done into an even more terrifying reality than was already causing her such distress. As she looked him over, her heart and her mind tangled with deeper more primal senses inside her, battling internally as to what had been her greater sin only hours earlier; what she had done, or the fact that even now she couldn’t help but need it to happen again. As she struggled with an internal frenzy her mind played the deeds of the last twenty four hours back in full color high definition.

Saturday morning…

Slipping off her pajamas and laying them out across her dresser, Charlene customarily stood in front of an antique mirror in the corner of her room and looked herself over. She turned from side to side, checking all available angles. She patted her flat stomach approvingly and smiled to herself. At the middle age of forty and one failed marriage under her belt, Charlene prided herself in keeping in shape where so many of her friends had begun to slide. Her divorce had left her with a struggling self esteem that she worked hard to gingerly mend by staying healthy. Her husband had traded her for a younger model; a blow that had made her think a lot about competing with more slender and curvy competition out there. Still in spite of her condition these days, she had discovered the dating game to be one for the young. The occasional man who had been caught by her presence had proven little more that a one night stand upon discovering that Charlene was also a mother. Few were willing to accept that extra baggage and she had all but resigned herself to being the target of a ‘hit it and quit it’ romp.

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