Mother’s Intuition, A lesson learned

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He doesn’t respond in any overt way; but he leans back against my chest flattening my perky nipples and playfully squeezes and rubs my thighs while his breathing grows deeper and quicker. Does he feel it too? Does he want it?

I feel my insides start to shake and my pussy getting warm and tingly. My fingers trembled on his skin and my heart rate raced. I couldn’t do it. I had to run before I completely embarrassed and humiliated myself. With just a fast word about leaving boiling water on the stove, I dashed into the house and ducked into an icy cold shower. I had to come to grips with this dilemma.

With my head under the spray, my thinking cleared but the vision remained. I know it’s incest. I know it’s the taboo that all mothers fear. And I know all about Oedipus. But how do you stop that warm, misty feeling that starts so deep inside and threatens to overwhelm your senses? I turned on the hot water and plugged the drain. Soon I was soaking in the warm tub, my legs spread and one hand working feverishly on my clitoris while the other rubbed and tugged at my nipples. “A.J. if you only knew how close I came to sucking your cock and begging you to fuck me.”

My orgasms were so thunderous I was afraid he would hear me moaning or feel the walls shaking. I was in there for well over an hour and when I passed him in the hall, it must have been obvious that I did not just have a relaxing bath. Thank goodness, he said he was going out. I hopped into my bed and recreated the entire scenario. I can’t stop toying with my clit or quit imagining myself a slave to his desires. I want him to take me and I’m beginning to think I can no longer fight this sensation. “How slutty can I possibly be?” If given the opportunity I believe I may do something crazy. Could I really give in to these deviant dreams?

He came home from a practice meet once walking on crutches with an athletic bandage taped from his ankle to his thigh. A trainer termed it a severe muscle-pull and suggested bed-rest with heat and massage. My instincts kicked-in. I prepared soup and hot tea so he could take his pain killers and muscle relaxers. Then I unwrapped the rubberized bandage and applied a warming balm and gently kneaded his sore muscles. He moaned dreamily while his body loosened and his eyes drifted shut. He fell asleep with me rubbing his steely thighs and feeling the warmth of this potent, young force. A tempest was brewing from down deep.

I brushed his short spikey hair with my fingers and trailed my painted nails down his clean shaven chest, pausing to slowly finger the solid set of abdominals leading towards his grey, flannel gym shorts. The loose fitting trunks gave me a clandestine view of his limp cock laying languidly on his upper leg and peeking out from the bottom of his shorts. It was like an unblinking eye seeing right through me.

I was surprised to see that he had shaved his pubes and I noticed that his underarms were also bare. It was off season, I guess that is why he had any hair at all on his head and legs. I was drawn again to his penis. Appearing like a coiled snake in it’s den. My pulse climbed and a fine sweat broke out all over me, cold droplets oozing down my neck, and trickling into my cleavage. I wanted him to rest but I was so tempted to reach into the leg of his shorts and just touch it once. My nerves were on edge.

My nipples perked up and my breathing became erratic. My hand was shaking so badly I was afraid to move any closer for fear of startling him. The idea that I was so close to that young, virile cock, was sending tingling sparks straight to my crotch. If I could not be certain about what to do with A.J.s cock, I definitely knew what to do with my throbbing pussy.

I hustled out of his room and into mine. I was undressed before I hit the sheets and it did not take long until my sopping wet gash erupted with pleasure. The spasms racked my body while the image of my son licking and fucking my hot cunt was driving me to delirium. I continued to rub the pink nub poking from it’s swollen hood. The orgasms that swept over me only alerted my demented brain that I wanted more. The flat of my hand rubbed roughly over my fleshy clit. My pussy was soaked with my juices and my entire vagina was radiating heat. I was not satisfying myself, only straining at the temptation I felt.

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