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My True Story

by Eddy

A teenage boy becomes obsessed with his mother to the  point that he plans a campaign to seduce her.

Let me start by saying that my mother and father
divorced when I was about four years old. My mother grew
up in the Midwest and met my father while he was
traveling through. He knocked her up (it was, according
to her, the first and only time that she ever had
premarital sex) and so they married.

A few months later, my sister Celeste was born. They
immediately moved back to my father's hometown (I will
use the fictitious name Springfield in honor of the
Simpsons and remain anonymous) of Springfield.
Springfield is a very small town that doesn't accept new
people or outsiders well. Four years later, I come

Four years after that dad takes off. All the friends and
relatives take my father's side, thus for all intents
and purposes, disowning my mother and leaving her to
fend for herself.

Six years later... I am ten... the whole time after the
divorce (and still a little) my mother depended on me
emotionally, for support and love.

My father would visit occasionally and fuck our mother
while I was in the house. I used to peek through windows
and half open doors to see what they were doing. I grew
to accept and appreciate the fact that she needed me and
I used this to my manipulative advantage.

Anyway, I was ten. When I would go visit my father, who
was a raging alcoholic, I would spend weekends alone,
with nothing but his porno magazines and porn paperbacks
to keep me company.

I came across a Hustler magazine that had a "Kinky
Korner" article written by a mother who had seduced her
son. I really liked that idea and read the story over
and over. What a lucky guy I thought.   

About the same time I ran across an issue of OUI
magazine that featured the girls of Russ Meyer. It was
then that I got my first glimpse of Kitten Natividad,
who despite her obviously enhanced breasts, resembled my
mother in breast size, hair color, and facial
appearance. (they could be sisters).

My seclusion for days upon days with this pornography
made me very interested in the wonderful secret side of
sex and horny to learn more. I would always look at the
magazines and books in fear that I would be caught.

I was scared that dad would beat me and that mother (if
she caught me) would punish me too. The long weekends
alone also made me dependant on my mother to kind of
rescue me because I would go maybe 3 days without very
much to eat. By the time she would pick me up, she
missed me very much, but I also needed her as well. She
was my savior and I was the only source of real
affection that she had in her miserable life, so it was
always special and emotional when she would pick me up.

I remember it all got going (to a certain extent about a
year later) when I was playing with myself, rereading a
paperback titled "The Passion Pit". The book was about a
mother who falls into the hands of a loan shark and, of
course, has sex with him. After the woman falls prey to
the lecherous loan shark, he tricks her into bringing
her daughter to a fancy dinner to entertain a new client
of his.

At the dinner the shark gets both the mother and 16 year
old daughter drunk and drives them home in his big car.
During the drive the mother rides in back with the
handsome new "client" and begins physically responding
the fingering that he gives her by breathing harder and
harder. The ugly, old and fat loan shark ends up talking
sexily to the girl in a voice loud enough as to ensure
that the mother in the back seat knows what his
intensions are. He says things like, "Here you are my
dear... Take hold of this... it won't bite you..." This
scares the mother, but she has no recourse.

The shark ends up tossing the young girls panties over
the back seat and screwing the poor thing silly. Once
the mother realizes that her daughter is getting it, she
opens her thighs and takes her new "client" inside of
her own hungry vagina. The thought of this mother
knowing that her daughter was getting screwed really
excited me. This was great stuff to me.

I lost track of the time and suddenly realized that my
mother had showed up early and was at the top of the
stairs. By the time I had put the book behind the toilet
where I sat, I had no time to hide my erect penis from
plain view. I was caught. She looked at my penis and
instantly realized what I was doing. She simply told me
to hurry up so we could leave.

I was freaked out and thought that she would kill me,
but instead she was very comforting. I was scared
shitless, and kept pretty quiet on the ride home. She
seemed unnerved, but not at all mad. I then asked her if
I should see a doctor about a problem that I had
recently discovered. She asked what it was and asked if
it had anything to do with what she had "noticed" that I
was doing.

I said that it was and that I was worried about my
"thing" being so hard at times that I couldn't pee. (I
had had some surgery on my abdominal area and actually
thought that might have been something to do with that).
She explained that it was normal for a boy my age and
"from what she saw" my equipment seemed to be in good
shape.   And that everyone did what I was doing.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, but I remember
being very, very excited at having my mother see my
penis when it was hard. The fact that she commented on
it and seemed to be pleased also excited me and made me
proud. I was developing a lust for my mother, and I was
yet to even have my first orgasm.


Over the next couple years I started to develop quite a
collection of Playboy Magazines and any other magazine
that had large breasted women in them. I was only
attracted to women with large breasts because that is
what mother had. I would imagine that they were my
mother and that they wanted to see my hard penis. I
became obsessed with the stuff.

When I was 13 I used to hide my magazines under my
Sports magazines in a gym bag. One time while at school,
I remembered that my mother had mentioned something
about needing to use a gym bag for something or other.

I was panicked as I realized that she would probably use
the gym bag that I used to store my stash. I remember
racing home after school thinking that I was for sure
busted. Images of all my favorite fantasy girls torn to
pieces, burned to cinders, destroyed beyond recognition
filled my head. But, when I arrived home I found my
stash neatly placed in a brown paper bag. No way! I
thought. For sure she could have touched my precious
magazines without realizing it.

She hadn't thrown them away. She hadn't burned them or
torn them to shreds. She had NEATLY STACKED my forbidden
porn in a brown paper bag.

This was big for me. She wasn't going to punish me for
having this stuff. While my heart recovered from the
initial shock I started to realize the potential for
this situation. I could become the "King of Porn" with
no fear of repercussion or punishment from my mother.

It was then that I decided to push the envelope a

I have always had a devious "push the envelope" type of

Some people would call it flirtatious, but I will always
try to see how far I can go with a person. Shortly after
the incident with the gym bag, I decided to try to see
how much I could get away with. I decided to leave a
"Juggs" magazine featuring some pictures of Kitten
Natividad under my pillow when I knew she would be in
there to wash the sheets. Again, no problem. This was
good news.

This time I decided to ask her about it. She tried to
act dumb like she hadn't seen it. I ended the
conversation right there, but the situation was clear.
   She would not punish me for having porn magazines,
even if I flaunted it to her. I decided to continue
pushing the envelope to see what I could get away with.

Take in mind that this was NOT an overnight deal. The
situation developed over a period of years with careful
execution on my part.

I then would try to get away with more and more, each
time gauging her reaction to see what I could get away
with. Among the things I tried were opening her bedroom
door "accidently" when I knew she would be changing. She
would ask me to leave and to not open her closed door,
so I began knocking and opening the door at the same

Again, I would play this off as an accident and make
like I was in some kind of hurry to do or tell her
something. I would look through the bathroom window
trying to catch her showering. (I always made enough
noise against the side of the house that she knew
something was going on.)

It was about this time that I discovered orgasms. I was
13 and had my first orgasm watching an R rated movie on
HBO. I remember blowing a huge wad all over the
carpeting as I wacked myself silly. (when I was younger
and read the orgasm parts of the stories I had no idea
what the white stuff was until this time.) Boy was I
psyched. I started jerking off all the time.

Shortly after my first orgasm I started walking into the
kitchen in the morning with my obvious hard-on in full
glory under my shorts (as long as I knew my sister
wouldn't be up yet or was out of the house) for mother
to see. She wouldn't even comment on my aroused state
unless my sister was in the house and getting up in the

If she knew my sister was coming she would say things
like "Why don't you cover up or put something else on
before your sister comes in.   She wasn't saying that I
couldn't walk around in my tighty-whities with a big
morning stiffy in front or her, just my sister.

Occasionally I would wear a pair of boxers and allow my
boner to "accidently" pop out once in a while. I totally
played it off as natural and no big deal, but I made
sure that mother couldn't miss it. Still no punishment.

I was going crazy trying to get away with more and more
with mom. She worked a very physical job and worked as
much overtime as she could get. Working so much, she
took a lot of "power naps" to catch up on sleep. Quite
often she would fall asleep in the middle of our
conversations. I would keep talking to her to see if she
would wake up or if she had fallen into deep sleep.

Once I knew that she was in deep sleep, I would keep
talking to her and throw in a dirty word or idea. After
doing this more and more I would occasionally whip my
dick out and wave it in front of her face. I went so far
as to jerk myself off while standing only a foot away
from her.

I soon tired of this as I knew that I could jerk myself
off anytime I wanted. I wanted the real stuff. I
continued my method of talking to her about me while she
slept. Just about every time she would fall asleep on
the couch, I would whisper something erotic in her ear.
I loved watching her react physically with deeper breath
and sometimes she would mumble answers in her sleep. But
still I had to have the real thing.

We watched a lot of TV in my house and mother and I
would often innocently curl up on the couch together to
watch it. I loved feeling her lush body against mine and
because I was now about 6 feet tall (and very thin...
omly about 140lbs. at the time) with long arms that I
would wrap around mother as far as they would go. She
felt secure with me and she would fall asleep often.
When she would fall asleep I would continue to whisper
in her ear things that I wanted her to think about.

I pretended I was a hypnotist (I ended up studying
psychology and family counseling so that I could fully
learn hypnosis and hear stories of other families who
had sex) and would plant ideas in her head that I wanted
her to think. On the rare occasion that she would answer
in her sleep, I would ask her these type questions.

Keep in mind that I used the third person tense so that
she wouldn't think that it was me she was speaking to in
her dreams... YET!

Do you love Billy? Do you know that Billy loves you? Do
you like seeing Billy in his underwear? Do you like
seeing Billy's penis when it is hard? You like seeing
Billy hard don't you? Your panties get wet when you see
him hard don't they? You want to see him naked don't
you? You know that he loves you don't you? Would you
like to let him see you naked? You have to really try
hard to keep from staring at his crotch don't you?

Also keep in mind that I tried to ask her only questions
that she could answer "Yes" to in the affirmative. I
rarely asked questions that she could answer "No" to,
but when I did, I would ask things like... You wouldn't
want Billy to leave and go live with his father now
would you? You wouldn't want to make Billy sad would
you? You wouldn't want to hurt Billy would you? You
don't want some girl to hurt him do you?

You get the picture. I did this for the next year or so.
It was not an every night thing either. I had to be very
patient to make sure that she didn't expect anything. I
continued to be myself around her to make her
comfortable with the ongoing situation.

I might go weeks without having a "hard-on" showing at
breakfast or late night to make sure it wasn't obvious
what I was doing. She loved me and I loved her as well.
She depended on me for all her emotional connection and
love. I don't recommend this as it is completely
unhealthy... but I used it for my advantage.

While swimming with her at the beach I would playfully
comment on how good she looked. We were almost like
lovers already. I remember it was that summer that I
first grabbed her enormous boobs. We were swimming and
playing around. We were tickling and playing around when
I suddenly grabbed her left breast with my right hand.
(I should tell you that she wore a 38DD at the time so
it was certainly a handful) She quickly removed my hand,
but again rather than punishing me, she kind of blushed
and tried to make light of it.

She tried to tell me not to do that, but we were in the
middle of a large group of summer swimmers. She
suggested that we get out of the water, but I told her
that we should wait a moment. When she asked why, I
glanced down, through the water at my tenting shorts
that held my raging hard-on. She waited with me as my
"problem" went away and we shared a silent secret in the
middle of dozens of unaware people.

Then (you will love this) a few months later, near the
end of the summer, my sister took a picture of my mother
and I standing in our living room.

I had my arm draped around her and since she is much
shorter than I, my arm went all the way around her neck
and down her arm. Just when my sister was getting ready
to take the picture I moved my hand directly to the
front of mom's boob and gave a light squeeze. I never
took my eyes off the camera, so my sister had no real
idea what I was doing. Mom quickly moved my hand,
without trying to make a scene in front of Celeste.
(although the picture is great evidence... I still
treasure it today)   

A little later when my sister had left the room my
mother tried to quietly tell me no to do "that" again.
This was the first time that she ever reacted
negatively. This time, I used her technique and played
dumb. As we had a very small home that concealed no
words spoken above a whisper, mother had to speak
quickly (my sis was coming back into the room soon) and
firmly.   I played a game that I knew she could not win.
After playing dumb for long enough I partially admitted
my guilt, but put the blame of guilt on her.

"Come on Mom, I was only playing. Don't tell me I can't
even joke around with you anymore."

"Not with your sister around!" she replied quickly as my
sister came back into the room.

I had done it again without punishment. She didn't say
that I couldn't play or joke around. She only said that
I couldn't do it in front of my sister.