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My Son's Birthday Present

A special birthday present on my son's twelfth birthday.


What I have written below is true in every detail. I have withheld my name for reasons that are obvious.

When I was fifteen years old, I was made pregnant by a separated, middle-aged man. I was young enough to believe that he loved me but, of course, he didn't. 


As soon as he learned that I was having his baby he left me and went back to his wife. Soon after, he moved to another town and I never heard from him again.

I gave birth to a baby boy, just before my sixteenth birthday and raised him with help from my family, who were extremely well-off. I had been told that I could have no more children after his birth, although there were times when I wished I could have had a daughter.

That is the background to my story, which begins on my son's twelfth birthday. That day, we had been shopping when an icy storm drenched us as we walked home. We were shivering by the time we reached the house, and I suggested to my son that we took a hot bath to warm up. I had often bathed with my son before, without any real thought about it.

When we got out of the bath, I began to towel my son off, as I always did. This time, however, his young cock stood up stiff and straight. I don't know why, but I knelt down in front of him and took his erection into my mouth, as I had done many times before. I had always kept it there for no more than a few seconds, but this time something happened that was to change both our lives.

My son stiffened and he began sliding his cock in and out of my mouth, holding my head as he did so, He was looking into my eyes, and seemed to be begging me not to stop.

Without thinking, I began to give him blowjob and realized that I wanted him to come in my mouth. I hadn't had sex with a man since the day I told his father that I was having a baby. It was not long before I heard my son gasping and felt his warm, salty spunk shooting to the back of my throat. I swallowed all of it, and continued sucking him until his balls were empty.

When it was over, I got up and told my son to continue drying himself. I went to my room and lay on the bed. Opening my legs wide, I began rubbing and stroking my enflamed clit. I was sex-crazed now, and desperately wanted an orgasm. After a few minutes, I became aware that my son was standing by my bed, watching me. He had another erection, and the sight of his rampant young cock was more that I could stand.

Asking him to lie down, I straddled him, inserting his cock into my hot pussy as I did so. Then I began to fuck him, frantically attempting to bring myself off. It didn't take long.

I screamed and shook as my orgasm surged through my body, the first I had had with a real cock in more than twelve years. When my come subsided, I slid from my son and lay beside him, telling him that he could come over me and fuck me.

He did just that, fucking me hard and fast although it was his first fuck. One minute later, he groaned, and I felt his young cock jerking off as his spunk flooded my aching vagina. He fucked me twice more that morning before he was completely satisfied.

We fucked on every possible occasion after that, I taught him how to lick my slit and suck my clit, and how to have a sixty-niner. He became so adept at tonguing me that my orgasms often left me completely exhausted for many hours after.

He was twenty-two when he told me that he wanted to marry a girl he had met. We didn't fuck again until almost two years after his marriage, during which time I had also married a man who I had met at my son's wedding.

My son's wife had a bad time giving birth to their daughter, and became frigid, and always refused my son's advances, even though she still loved him very much, and he loved her.

His frustration built up until one day he took time off from work and came to my house. In the hallway, he held me and kissed me. I could feel his erection pressing into me as he raised my skirt and pulled down my panties. Without a word he slid his nine inches into me and began fucking me with my back against the wall.

My husband's cock was less than seven inches, and nowhere near as thick as my son's. Furthermore he fucked me no more than twice a month. Whenever I masturbated, which was several times a day, I had visions of my son's cock giving me the fucking I craved.

As I felt my son's cock sliding up and down my cunt, I began to move with him, grinding my pubes into his. I managed to control my orgasm until his cock jerked off inside me, bringing me off almost simultaneously.

He fucked me again half an hour later as we lay fondling and kissing on the sofa.

He fucks me at least one morning a week now. It drives me crazy, and I know we can never again stop. Incest is a drug, more powerful than any of the banned substances. You can never get it out of your mind, and never resist an opportunity for it. I'm sixty now, and we are still lovers as we were when he was twelve years old.

There is nothing in the above that is the result of my imagination. To us, incest is the most natural and wonderful thing in the world. I firmly believe that sex between a man and a woman, albeit between mother and son or father and daughter, is much more natural than sex between people of the same sex, though I most certainly do not condemn the latter. In fact, my only criterion is that both parties enjoy it.