A true story about a mother and son's incestuous relationship.
Lot of people are probably wondering how I came to view my mom sexually. Did I catch her masturbating, like in so many stories? Or did she catch me masturbating? My answer is that there was no one event that triggered my attraction to her.
In junior high, like all other boys, my hormones were just emerging and I was gaining my appreciation for the female body. I simply never differentiated between females inside and outside my family and no one ever told me I should. I doubt most parents give their kids
the birds-and-bees talk and end by saying "But you can't do it with relatives." By the time I realized there was such a strong taboo against incest, I had been jerking off to my female relatives for quite a while, guilt-free. So my masturbatory fantasies were filled with all kinds of women, from celebrities to teachers and classmates to cousins, aunts, and yes, Mom.
I think I have a more diverse taste in women than most men. I of course have a strong appreciation for the
young, big-boobed, slender women that the advertising industry loves but I can get off just as easily
thinking of women of all sorts of age groups and body types. My Mom, while not one of the absurd supermodel
MILFs you'll find in so many fictional stories, has
aged better than most women her age and once even got
carded for buying alcohol.
She's a short woman (I was taller than her by my freshman year of high school) with chin-length black hair and pale skin. She's round but not fat and has small B-cup breasts. But her best part is her ass, whose bulging roundness is obvious even in the loosest skirts and pants.
It's hard to pinpoint the moment I realized that I loved my mother as more than just a mother. It was in my teen years when my desire for her became physical as well as emotional but I feel like I loved her for my entire life. Even as I grew older, I never stopped sharing her bed as being with her just felt so comfortable and right. Sometimes I would snuggle up to her as she slept, letting go only when I got an embarrassing erection.
I'd wake up early and go to the bathroom or shower just so that I could have the chance to jack off. Sometimes, if it was real early and my willpower was especially weak, I'd hold up the comforter with my left hand and masturbate with my right while watching my mother
sleeping beside me. Afterwards, I'd lay in bed blushing, praying that I hadn't woken her.
My love for my mother had but one obstacle: my father.
I hated him. He wasn't abusive or neglectful, just cold
and stern to both me and my mom. He simply didn't love
us. On the rare occasions he showed emotion, it was to
throw a temper tantrum over the silliest little things.
Even on things he should have been angry about, like a
bad grade, he completely overreacted. He'd lock himself
up in his study and Mom would lock herself up in her
room. When I was young and stupid, I would try to go
into my father's study and try to calm him down, only
to be shouted at and thrown out. I soon realized that
my time was better spent comforting my mother. I
wouldn't say much but the clich'd "It's all right." My
mother would lie down with my and hug me for hours.
As I got older, Mom was more willing to discuss her
feelings with me. We'd lay down together and stay up
for hours, with her confiding in me her frustration and
unhappiness with her husband. As I held her, she
whispered, "If he didn't have the better job, I think I
would divorce him."
"Would you look for a new husband?" I asked.
"I don't know. He'd have to be a decent, loving man,"
she whispered back.
"Like me?" I asked jokingly.
"You? You'd want to be your old mom's husband?"
My heart skipped a beat. I had almost revealed my
secret incestuous fantasies! In a tone that I hoped was
still light and joking, I answered, "Sure, why not?
Would you like to be my wife?"
She snuggled me tighter and, in a tone that seemed
almost serious, she said, "Yes."
My "marriage proposal" had taken place just before I
left for college. When I finally went to college, I had
a single room in the dorms, giving me the privacy to
masturbate much more than I did at home. Her "yes"
answer had filled my head with fantasies that had
seemed crazy at the time. And they weren't just sexual
fantasies. Fantasies of a life and a home with just her
and me, together as husband and wife, became my
I remember very clearly the moment I got the phone
call. I had just gotten back from an hour and twenty
minute class. I hadn't been able to concentrate since
my mother had been on my mind and I was horny. I had
just laid down in my bed and reached under my pants
when my phone rang. I sighed in frustration as I threw
off my blanket and answered.
"Eddie?" It was my mom. Her voice was calm yet soft and
"Hi Mom. What's going on?"
"It's your father. He's dead. He had a heart attack."
Her voice held no detectable sadness. Only confusion
and a sense of being lost.
"I'll book a flight home. I'll be there as soon as
"Okay, son," she said. "I love you."
"I love you too. Bye."
Many of you will think I'm terrible, and maybe I am,
but my lust increased tenfold. The very next thing I
did was whip off my pants and start jerking off. I beat
my shaft mercilessly as images of my mother flashed in
front of me. My mother bent down in front of me, her
round pale ass in my face as I kissed her buttocks. My
mother kneeling before me with my cock in her hand, my
white cum splattered onto her pretty face. My mother as
my girlfriend, making out with me in the backseat of
the family car. My mother as my wife, her belly
swelling with my unborn child. That last image made me
hit my orgasm and several ropes of my seed shot out of
my erect dick, arched through the air and splattered
down on my bed, some of it landing on me.
The knowledge that my father was finally out of the
picture aroused me to new heights. I had one of THOSE
days, where you do nothing but lie around and
masturbate. My mother was available. Fantasy had become
As I sat on the plane, for the first time in my life, I
felt guilty about masturbating to my mother. Not
because of that silly incest taboo but because I hadn't
given any thought to how I would console her or what I
would say to her. I thought about it for the entire
plane ride and the cab ride from the airport.
When I arrived home, my mother, her face somber, pulled
me into a hug. She let me go and, with a sad smile,
said, "Come on in."
Setting down the single backpack that I'd brought, I
looked around the house, not quite believing that my
father was really gone. A thrill shot through my body
as I realized that my mother and I were here alone like
in my fantasies but it died down when I remembered my
top priority. Find out what she was feeling.
"Are you..." I paused, unsure if I should continue. "Are
"Yes," my mom said. She chuckled sardonically. "And
that's the problem. My husband's dead and I feel just
fuckin' fine! There's something really wrong with
I had never heard my mother curse before.
To this day I don't know what possessed my mother to
say the things she did. "When he died, I didn't feel
grief. Regret, but not grief. Mostly all I felt was
relief. I can get a new start. A new life." She looked
at me with a rather un-motherly type of love. "With
I think it was my emotional turmoil and my mother's own
lack of inhibition that made me do what I did next. I
kissed her on the lips the way a lover would. And she
reciprocated wholeheartedly. She started rubbing my
crotch through my pants and, even though I had cum so
much yesterday, my cock was brought to life instantly.
My mother pulled back suddenly. "I-I'm sorry. I
"No it's okay." I took her by the shoulders and pulled
her closer. "Really."
"I shouldn't do this. I don't know how you're feeling."
"The same way you are." I kissed her again. This time,
there was no resistance.
I ran my right hand over my mother's ass through the
paper-thin cloth of her worn nightdress. I moved my
left hand over her braless right breast and fondled it
softly. All the while my erection strained painfully
against the inside of my pants.
Mom broke off the kiss. "Let's go upstairs," she
whispered. I nodded eagerly.
We returned to our room. The moment we were inside the
door, Mom stripped off her nightdress and stood before
me in just her panties. My hands shaking, I struggled
with the fly of my pants.
"Let's get those out of the way. Lay down." I lay on my
back as my mother undid my fly and pulled my pants
down, undressing me the way she had when I was just a
child. I pulled off my shirt as she removed my boxers,
revealing the erect pole underneath, its tip wet. My
mother lay on top of me for a moment, just gazing at
it. For the first time since I'd arrived, she was
Finally, she climbed on top of me and impaled herself
on my cock. I pushed in smoothly, reaching up and
playing with her beautiful tits as I entered her. She
arched her back, sighing softly.
I began thrusting up into her, feeling her cunt
grasping every inch of my cock, stroking it back and
forth. My mother leaned forward and gave me another wet
I rolled over on top of her, grabbing her shapely
buttocks as I did. I continued thrusting into her and
she thrust back, our humping getting quicker and
quicker. My mother isn't a screamer, but her soft gasps
and sighs, quickening as I brought her toward her
climax, were sexier than anything I could have
"Eddie, I... I'm gonna..."
"Cum?" I managed to get out that single word between
"Yes, cum," she said, as if the dirty word were strange
to her tongue. "I'm gonna cum! Oh! Uhhh! Ohhhh!" Her
beautiful face scrunched up and she clenched her teeth
as I felt her cunt contracting around my shaft. In
short order, I hit my own orgasm.
"Oh goddamn!" I felt a surge of cum shoot through my
shaft and blast full force into my mother's cunt and up
into the womb I had come from. We continued humping
together throughout our climax, my cock continuing to
shoot spurt after spurt inside her.
As our orgasms subsided, I pulled out of my mother and
slumped down on top of her. I wrapped my arms around
her, kissing her bare breasts. She hugged me closer and
we lay there together, basking in the afterglow of our
For a while, we lay together in silence. "Hey Mom,
remember our last talk here? The one where I said I'd
like to be your husband?"
"I meant it."
She grinned brilliantly. "I meant it when I said I'd like to be your wife."
I took her hand. "Michelle, will you marry me?"
And that was it. From then on out, we were secretly husband and wife. Our relationship took off and we never looked back.
We spent the rest of that day in bed.