College guy & his mother reenact an incest scene, I woke up and glanced at the bedside clock; 2-35 am. Thank God it was Saturday tomorrow and I could lie in a bit longer.
I felt thirsty, so reluctantly I got out of bed and going to the underwear drawer I got out a pair of jockey shorts and pulled them on. I always slept naked and the shorts were a precaution against someone seeing me nude, though God knows why I bothered since there was only mother in the place apart from me, and she would be asleep.
I left the bedroom and padded quietly down the passageway to the kitchen, took a drink of water and started to go back to my bedroom.
I hadn’t noticed it when I’d left the bedroom because the computer room was in the other direction from the kitchen, but on my return I noticed that the computer room door was just a crack open and there was a bluish light showing.
“Blast,” I thought, “I must have left the damned computer on.”
Then I thought I distinctly remembered turning it off, but no matter, it was on now so….
I pushed the door open and stepped into the room and stood stock still. Mother was sitting in front of the computer staring intently at the screen. I’d come in quietly and she hadn’t heard me, but she did hear my startled intake of breath when I saw what she was looking at.
She gasped and swung the swivel desk chair round so that she faced me.
There was a moment of silence as we stared at each other and I don’t know who was the most startled and embarrassed. On mother’s side it was being caught looking at an erotic site; on my side it was knowing how she’d come to be looking at it.
It happened to be one of the sites I often looked at and I’d got it set as a favourite. Mother must have been casually hunting around and come across it.
Mother was the first to speak.
“I…I couldn’t sleep so I was…was just playing around with the…I found…it’s one of your favourites isn’t it?”
There was no point in lying since it was obviously set as one of my favourites, so somewhat red faced I said “Yes.”
“You look at this sort of thing often?”
“Oh no, not often,” I replied, thinking that it would all depend on how you defined “often.”
I waited for her to berate me, telling me I was a lecher, filthy minded, or something like that. What she said shook me somewhat.
She swung the chair round again so that she was facing the screen and said, “It is rather beautiful, isn’t it?”
“You…you think so?”
“You seem surprised. I took it that since you’ve got it as one of your favourites you’d think it was beautiful; or is it just the sex that interests you?”
“Well, no, not just the sex it’s…it’s…”
“Rather moving isn’t? They may of course be just models and not mother and son, but they certainly convey a sense of love and not just raw lust.”
What she’d been looking at was a series of four pictures of a woman who appeared to be in her mid thirties and a young man or should I say boy, who looked about eighteen or nineteen.
Well, there’s no point in beating about the bush. The pictures were part of a mother and son incest site, and from the first time I’d seen them I’d been captivated. Much of the material on this and other incest sites promoted themselves as being nasty and having sexy slut mothers being fucked by horny sons and so on.