Note: This is my first erotic story (and also my first complete online story) so chances are this isn't going to be my best work. But, just in case you missed the first sifting through the tags, this is a Mother/Son incest story. If that offends you in any way, turn around and don't look back, lest you get an eyeful of unwanted mom-son incest action
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* * *
As I sat in the tub, once-hot water now barely lukewarm, I thought back to the events of today. I had just broken up with my girlfriend, Yvonne, and I was pretty bummed. Granted, twe were only together for a few months, but she seemed really into me. But lately, she'd seem to lose interest in me, and then I found out she had fallen in love with one of her sister's guy friends. So, she called me to her place and said that we were through. I took in in good stride, wishing her and Tucker, her new boyfriend, the best of luck. She gave me one final kiss, saying she hoped I would find a girl to make him happy.
Fat chance, I thought.
Maybe some info about myself will help explain things better. I'm 19, taking some time to work before I headed off to college. I work out every so often, so I have a pretty sweet body. Sweet enough that I've had quite a few girlfriends in my life. But my relationships never last long. Usually, the girls either lose interest in me or say we don't connect. I'm white, not really important, but hey, sometimes people want to know this kinda stuff and I've got dusty blonde hair. I don't know if that's the color, but it's what I call it.
As my thoughts swirled around in my mind, a knock on the door brought me back to reality. The knock was followed by a soft female voice. "Evan dear?" the voice asked. "Are you almost done?"
"Yeah, Mom," I called. "I'll be out in a minute."
"Okay," she said, followed be retreating footsteps. I sighed, slunking back into the water. I'd always had a theory as to why I could never keep a steady relationship. What it all boiled down to was my mom, I surmised.
You see, ever since I started puberty and started getting sexual thoughts, I'd been attracted to my mom. And, in retrospect, I don't see why not. My mother was a beautiful woman for her age. She was 39, fair-skinned, with brown hair always tied back in a bun, with bangs that accentuated her angelic face. She was a little on the short side (around 5' 8" compared to my 5' 11"), but built perfectly, with wonderful breasts. They were slightly bigger than average, and soft (at least from what I could tell; I hadn't touched those things since I was a baby), almost like a porn star's. She had an average waist, but her ass. Oh, it was big, round and firm, a little jiggly when she would jump or walk too fast: a bubble butt of perfect proportions. Her voice always brought my spirits up; just hearing it gave me the hardest boners of my life. And today was no exception.
After my mother had left from the door, I looked to see the head of my throbbing member poking out above the water's surface. It's fairly impressive, if I do say so. I'm 9 1/2" long and about an inch-and-a-half thick, with pretty big balls, like oversized golf balls, and circumcised. I had no hair down there, mainly because there wasn't alot and because I shaved after hitting the gym, but I always left a line of hair from my navel to my waist. All of my past girlfriends loved kissing down the happy trail to my impressive member.
Anyway, my hard-on was standing up out of the water. Apparently, it had read my mind as I thought of my mom. So, I wrapped a hand around it, lifted my hips a little out of the tub, so water wouldn't splash everywhere from my aggresive beating of my dick (because when I jacked off to thoughts of my mom, I tended to go overboard), and proceeded to stroke my member quick and hard. As I thought about my sweet and hot mom, the hot pressure deep within my hips started building up my shaft, causing me to beat off even faster. Soon, it reached the tip. It threw my head back and bit my lip to stifle a shout as I spilled my seed, the streams of jism shooting into the air and landing with a soft 'plop' into the bathwater.
I had always hoped that some days, my mom wouldn't recycle the bathwater and use the tub I'd jacked off in, so she could get pregnant with my kid. I had always fantasized about knocking my mother up, usually thinking up contrived and elaborate ways to do so. One was to deposit my sperm onto the vibrator she had. I found out she had one when I was fifteen after digging through her closet for my dad's pornos.
That's another thing: my dad. Everyone says I look just like him, only a little taller and with darker blonde hair. It's sort of true, but we act nothing alike. He's a stuffy businessman who values punctuality and order, and I'm a bit of a lazy dude, as I call myself, who just likes to relax and take things as they go.
Back to matters on hand though, my mom and dad had a rather healthy sex life, but I guess since he was gone so long on business meetings, she needed a vibrator to ease her loneliness on the nights he was gone. So, I could probably jack off onto one of them and see if she uses it and gets pregnant. But I always chickened out when I thought of it, so I've never gone through with it.
I stood up, scrubbing my body one last time before I drained the tub, letting the water go down. As I stepped out of the tub, my now-limp member swung to and fro, its 6 1/4" of flaccid flesh having already deposited its offering to my thoughts of Mom. I dried off with my towel, wrapped it around my waist and left the bathroom, walking down the hall to my room.
On the way there, I passed my mom, who flashed a bright smile at me as she headed to the bathroom for her shower. I always hoped she'd see me half-naked and get hot and want me to do her, like what happens in those stories you read on erotic story sites, but those kind of things just never happen in real life. I smiled back at her, my friendly smile betraying the sick horny thoughts of her that rested in my mind.
I was back in my room now, so I dropped my towel and took some boxers out of my drawer, pulling them on before looking around for some clothes to wear to sleep. I decided to just wear some grey pajama pants and no shirt. As I started to close my drawer, I paused for a minute, before sighing and pulling it open again, sifting aside underwear to reveal a headshot photo of my mom I kept hidden there. I took it out, feeling its crisp crusted surface between my fingers. You see, I happen to use this picture as... target practice for my jizz shots. Years of dried sperm encrusted the photo's edge, but I always wiped away whatever landed on my mom's face, so I could look at her soft loving eyes and sweet innocent smile without hinderance.
My cock hardened almost immediately, causing a tent to form in my pajama pants. I sat down on my bed, pulled my pants down enough to reveal my rock hard stiffy and immediately started jerking off, looking at the photo of my mom in my hand. Soon, after only twenty seconds, I came, pressing the head of my member against the photo and ejaculating, adding another addition of cum to its years of service, smearing it with my seed. As I wiped the last drops of cum from my tip with the picture, I wiped the sperm away from my mom's face with my thumb, setting the photo on the side of my bed to dry. As I pulled my pants up and layed down on my bed, pulling the covers over myself, I looked at the cum-stained picture one last time.
"I love you, Mom," I whispered softly before falling asleep.
* * *
The next morning, I woke up and put the photo away in my drawer. I went down the stairs to the kitchen, where my mom was cooking breakfast. She gave me another perfect smile. "Morning, sweetie," she said, setting my plate on the table. On it was my favorite breakfast: homemade hashed browns, bacon, blueberry pancakes, buttered toast, and a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice.
"Wow, Mom!" I said as I sat down, taking a good whiff of my mom's expert cooking. "This is awesome! Thanks!" I started pouring syrup on my pancakes.
My mom nodded, sitting down across from me at the table. "It was nothing, dear," she said. "You need a good meal to cheer up."
I looked up at her, my eyes asking her what she meant, as I slowly stopped pouring the syrup.
Mom just looked at me. "I heard about what happened between you and Yvonne," she told me. "I had called Yvonne's home yesterday to see when you were coming home, and she told me you'd already left for home, and she told me what happened."
I sighed, taking a bite of my syrup-drenched pancake so I wouldn't have to talk about it.
"I'm sorry, honey," Mom said, reaching over the table and taking my hand, patting it softly. "I guess you and Yvonne just weren't right for each other."
