Mother and son, incest story, It’s late and I’m lying on my bed watching TV. I have the sound real low because my little brother and sister are asleep in their room just down the hall. I’m wearing a tee shirt and shorts because it’s August and still too hot to wear anything else or to sleep beneath the sheets.
I can hear the sound of the shower running in the room next to mine as my mom gets herself ready for bed. After a little while the house goes silent and I turn down the volume another notch just so that I don’t disturb anybody. I’m getting tired and drifting. Kind of in that place just before one day merges into the next through sleep.
My mom comes into my room a little while afterwards. It’s not that unusual. She likes to do that sometimes. She might sit with me a little while. We don’t talk much or anything but she stays with me for a time and then kisses me goodnight. It’s just feels good for us to be close at that time of day. I think we both enjoy that.
Life is tough for my mom. She has this thing about not letting things get her down, but I know how hard it must be. Especially now. Mom lies down next to me on the bed. She doesn’t speak but she smiles. I like that about her, she has the sweetest smile.
She’s wearing pyjamas. She looks pretty dressed like that. They are a deep blue colour and buttoned at the front. They are a little tight on her but somehow I like that. I don’t really know why. I know she worries about the way she looks. She jokes about her big ass and her big boobs. I tell her she looks incredible. Sexy and beautiful, especially now, but she just laughs a little and tells me that is so cute.
But it’s true. She’s 38 and to me she looks perfect. She’s about 5ft 8. She’s curvy and stunning. I adore her curves. Her hair is still slightly wet and she smells fresh from her shower. Her hair is amazing. She wears it long. It’s black and full, it suits her so well. But it’s her eyes that blow me away. Deep brown. A real perfect brown eyed girl.
But it’s more than the way she looks. She’s warm, intelligent and special. She’s somebody who understands how it feels. That’s why I feel the way I do about her.
I’m sitting up, resting against the board at the back of the bed. She does the same so that we are side by side. I like that.
“What are you watching baby?” Her voice is just a whisper, soft and kind.
It’s some old movie. Something from the fifties or sixties, I don’t know. I don’t respond because I don’t really think she wants me to. I feel like she’s happy just to sit here with me as we both watch in silence. Maybe the two of us sitting like this next to each other is all that matters.
She reaches one hand up and strokes gently over the back of my neck, spreading her fingers through my hair. She smiles again and tells me that I have nice hair and that I take after her. It feels good when she says that to me.
I can tell that she likes to do this. Sometimes, when there’s others around, she will touch me so that nobody notices too much. That hits me inside. She might brush her hand over my skin or press my shoulders a little. I like it best when she hugs me from behind. Once or twice, she has kissed my neck when she does that. That always feels so good. I’m used to her touching me like that and I ache for her to do it. She’s my mom, I love her touching me.
After a little while she rests her head against my chest and I kind of hold her that way. She wraps her arm around my waist and stretches her hand underneath my tee shirt. We sit like that for a little while. Her hair feels sweet against my face. I can just make out the rise and fall of her breathing and the warmth of her body through her pyjamas.
Her fingers circle lightly over the skin of my stomach. It feels so nice when she does that. I never want her to stop doing that. She tells me sometimes how much she loves touching my skin. She makes me promise to her that nobody else can touch me that way. I would promise her anything, I think she must know that.
I want to close my eyes but I’m scared that I will fall asleep and that when I wake up she will be gone. Her touch makes me feel calm and I want to let myself go, but I don’t want this to stop. It’s as if she knows. As my body begins to relax against hers she turns her face up towards mine and looks at me. She leans up just a little so that her lips press lightly against my mouth.
It’s a goodnight kiss, that’s all. Just my mom wanting to feel close to me before we sleep.
She looks at me again after she has done that. She’s stroking her fingers back and forth across my waist, just above the waistband of my shorts.
“Does that feel nice honey?”
She speaks so quietly and so softly. I don’t really know if she wants me to answer. I look down at her face. It’s those eyes. There is something so special about those brown eyes. She waits for me.
“I love you mom, you know that don’t you?”
It’s not the answer to her question but it’s what I want to say to her. I do love her, of course I do. But, right here and now, I say it because I want her to know that I can sense a part of her that is just for me. I want to her to know that I can feel that and I want her to know that I am always here for her, especially now.
She puts her face back against my chest. Her touch seems a little more deliberate now. She makes circles across my stomach. The TV is still talking to me but it’s just a quiet noise without meaning. Instead, all of my senses are trained on her and her touch.
“You won’t ever leave me baby, will you?”
She sounds a little vulnerable when she says that. Maybe I shouldn’t, but it makes me feel good to know that she worries about being without me. I like her needing me that way.
“No mom, I promise, I’m going always be here for you.”
Her fingers edge up slowly as she moves her touch across my nipple. It sends a tremor through me. There is something about her touching me like that. It’s more than a simple physical touch. I can tell that she wants me to feel pleasure, a type of pleasure that is just for me. She is showing me she understands and that she knows how it feels.
She moves to kiss me again. Her lips are open just a little. She’s still touching me, still stroking my nipple with the tips of her gorgeous fingers. Her lips are soft and moist. She has kissed me like this before. This time though I want her to know. I want her to feel like I do. I want her to know that I don’t want this stop.
As she breaks the kiss there is a slight pause. Then, for the first time ever, I lean my face towards her and press my mouth to hers. It’s not forceful or urgent. Just deliberate.
She responds. Later, she will tell me how she has lain awake at night touching herself and thinking about me. Imagining my mouth against hers. Imagining the taste of me. Too scared to think about how she feels but needing me too much to ever kill the thought.
Our kiss is a little longer than the last. It’s gentle and it’s warm. As it ends and our mouths part, she waits a few seconds before pressing smaller kisses against my lips, as if she wants the end of this moment to be slow and gradual.
She takes her hand from beneath my shirt and moves herself upwards so that she is sat next to me again. I expect her to leave now and, for a few moments, I think she expects the same.
She looks at me again. The changing light and shadows from the movement on the TV screen flickers across the room, illuminating her face. I only realise how hard I am when I feel her hand move lightly across my shorts. She is touching me. My mom’s hand rubs across my penis and something inside of me triggers a deep and rich emotion. I love her but I know this different. I know that we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m certain we both know it’s something that shouldn’t happen. But her touch against me feels exquisite.
She stares at me as she rubs me through the material of my shorts. She isn’t smiling now and she isn’t speaking. She seeks out the shape of my hardness and presses her fingers either side pulling back slightly so that I get a rush of deep sweetness as she does that.
I feel like she needs me to do something. Like she needs me to show her that this OK and that I want to be part of this. I raise my own hand up and press it against one of her breasts. The feel of the stiffness of her nipple surprises me a little and I worry that I might have hurt her or something as my palm presses over it. I hear her let out a little gasp as I do that.
She moves away from me momentarily and unfastens the buttons at the front of her pyjama top. I can see the warm fullness of her stomach as the top opens. She takes my hand and rests it against her skin. Her hand is pressed gently against mine, holding my touch to her stomach like she wants us to share something inside of her.
In the half lit room I can see that her nipples are erect. She moves my hand upwards and presses it against one of her breasts, closing her eyes as she does that. She covers her hand over my mine, pushing my fingers so that they squeeze against her nipple.
We stay like that. I feel the round firmness of my mom’s breasts and see her mouth open just slightly as she takes my touch. She places her hand firmly but lovingly on the back of my head and draws me to her. We both enjoy the bond as my mouth closes around her.
I suck. Gently at first. It’s instinctive and natural. My tongue and lips just enjoying the feel of her hard nipple and delicate areola in my mouth. Her breast feels beautiful in my mouth. She embraces me, holding my head in her hands. She moans slightly and softly. It excites me to know that she is aroused by me doing this.
She opens her eyes and pulls me away from her, reaching to hold my face with one hand. Her fingers are either side of mouth, pressed into my cheeks as she pushes her mouth against mine and kisses me again.
She uses her fingers to manipulate my mouth, moving it so that she can pull my lips apart as she plunges her tongue into me. She swirls it around the inside of my mouth, like she’s greedy and needy for our kiss. This is different to how she has ever kissed me before. When my tongue connects with hers it’s a feeling of being taken in to somewhere I’ve never been but that has always been waiting for me. We are tasting the inside of each other and feeling our way to somewhere strange. She is leading me there.
There will be times in the future when we talk about this and she will tell me about how it felt for her. The nervous excitement as she contemplated this. She will tell me about how her attraction towards me emerged from her loneliness and fused itself with her love for me. She will talk to me about her hatred for the need for me that runs through her, but how incredible it felt to her the first time we kissed and touched like this.
She takes me to that place with her. We feel the same confused attraction as we delve deeper. She uses her hand to twist my mouth onto hers, before licking and biting softly across my lips. She guides me lovingly into a sensuous and wonderful place where we both discover the beauty of incest. The mental acknowledgement of what we are doing provokes an intense sexual experience. It’s something exclusive to us. Something that only we can provide each other.
Her hand returns to my body as we kiss. There is no pretence now. She lays her palm flat against my stomach and then slides down inside of my shorts until her hand rests against the swollen flesh of my penis. I tense a little as our skin meets. There is only the slightest movement as her fingers play and stroke lightly around the exposed head in a delicate motion. She plants tiny kisses across my face until her tongue flickers across my ear and she speaks to me,
“It’s OK baby, we love each other, don’t be scared, it’s OK”
She begins to kiss my body. First it is my face, the plush velvet of her lips caressing my cheeks and chin. One of her hands continues to stroke and gently masturbate me as the other pushes the bottom of my tee shirt upwards. As she does this, her head moves downwards and her mouth trails across the flesh of my chest and her tongue brushes over my nipples.
I watch her head sinking a little lower as her lips make a line of teasing kisses down my chest and stomach. Her hand releases my penis and she pushes my shorts down over my hips. I raise my rear from the bed just slightly so that she can free them.
In that instant, and for the first time in my life, I feel the lush sensation as my mom’s lips sweep sweetly over the tip of my cock. At first, she just rubs them across me in a slow and comforting touch. Then, as if to reassure me, she presses a soft kiss against the flesh.
I look down towards her as she turns her face up towards me. Through the half-light emanating from the TV, I can see into those brown eyes. We are both perfectly still for a moment as we seek the other’s willingness. My hand reaches down to touch her face. I want her to know that I love her. I want her to know that I feel this excitement too. I want her to know that I want her to do this to me. Her head moves slowly as she turns and I feel the hot wetness of her mouth as it enfolds me.
It feels like silk around me. She sucks tentatively over the head of my gland, gliding her mouth down my shaft. My body lifts slightly to meet her movement as my mom gives me her head. The low talking from the TV is the only sound in the room. I can’t make a noise, I know that. I nervously keep my breathing shallow as the act unfolds.
Holding me steadily in her hand, she works my cock between her lips in a steady motion as her mouth moves up and down me. Now and then she releases me, her soft lips roll across my crown lubricated perfectly by the precum oozing from me. Each time there are just a few seconds pause before I feel the jagged thrill as she takes me back inside of her. My thoughts run with the strange emotion and experience of my mom sucking me. My hands hold her head. She seems to like that, increasing her momentum and drawing me deeper with each movement.
In the months that follow she will tell me that this part of her is mine. The gentle mouth that has kissed me goodnight a thousand times is mine to fuck whenever I want it. She tells me that she loves doing this for me. Loves the taste and sensation of my cock against her lips and tongue.
My body begins to relax as my senses explore the experience of oral sex for the first time. I want to tell her that this feels so good. I want to tell her that I love her. I want to tell her that I never want this to end, but I don’t speak.
I don’t know how long it lasts. She seems to know the exact points in her movement at which to suck me a little more tightly and when to pause, licking gently across the head of me. In time she will explain. Tell me how she love the bond and intimacy of oral sex. with her own son. Her tongue dances and flicks like a feather over the swollen tip of me. She tells me later that it should feel just like a butterfly fluttering over me. A butterfly kiss. That’s how it feels every time.
She knows when I need her take me back inside of her. Drawing me back in and letting me experience the fullness of her sweet mouth. As I slip gently towards orgasm I instinctively draw my hips back just a little, uncertain what she wants or needs me to do.
She holds me there. Letting me release spasms of thick cum into her and swallowing down each spurt. One day she will tell me how much she loves that. How she likes to have that part of me inside of her so that we are joined in the way that we always should be. An unbreakable bond between us.
She lets me rest there as I empty myself, the delicious sensation of my orgasm slowly fading. She prolongs my pleasure by cleaning me with her tongue, gently lapping and washing my penis and skin with her mouth. Cleaning up after her boy, like a perfect mother would.
When she is done she raises her mouth back to mine and we kiss again. Her mouth is warm and still wet, the taste and scent of my own sperm passing between our lips and tongues. That is beautiful. She is beautiful.
She whispers “goodnight” as she leaves and sleep comes.
It’s in the morning when I remember it. A dream. A deep and sensuous dream. I reach down and feel the warm wetness that has leaked from in the night. A loving and gentle goodnight kiss from my beautiful mom.
