The Joys of Mothers Loving Sons
Session 5 with Jill Daniels
"Thanks for coming in today," I said to Jill Daniels, smiling at the mother of Mercedes. Normally, I saw Jill on Friday after my session with her daughter and not on Monday.
The woman nodded. She lay on the bed beside me. I was working her towards my cuddle therapy. I loved the look in her eyes. She had this wild gleam. Almost haunted. She was realizing things about herself. Things she didn't think she was capable of feeling.
"So, how was the tape?" I asked. I'd heard from Mercedes that Jill had spent all weekend in her bedroom while her husband was out fishing. "Enjoy it?"
Jill shuddered, her cheeks going red. "It was the hottest thing in the world, Dr. Elliston." She glanced at me, licking her lip. "That was really your husband and his mother?"
I smiled, remembering filming the naughty, amateur porno that I'd given Jill to help her get the hots for her son. "Yes, it was," I said. "It was fun to make."
My thoughts drifted.
* * *
Nine weeks earlier...
I held the digital camcorder in my hand as I stood in the kitchen of our third house. We owned three of them in a row on our block, the fences knocked down to link the backyards. We lived in the first two houses while the third house was off limits to our kids. They were too young to see the things that went on in here.
My mother-in-law and sex slave, Cheryl Elliston, stood at the sink. She wore a light-blue dress spotted with flowers. It was a rather conservative dress, something a housewife would wear. She had an apron over it. She was humming, doing the dishes. Her dyed-blonde hair swayed about her shoulders. She stood taller than me, almost Clint's height. Her large breasts swelled the front of her blouse, the apron stretched over it.
Clint strode in wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I shuddered at the sight of him. I smiled at the hungry look in his face as he stared at his mother. Normally, she was his sex slave. He mastered her, claiming her when she'd been drowning in grief after her husband, our father, had died.
I'd never known our father.
Clint came up behind his mother and grabbed her rump through her dress. She stiffened, her back arching. She shuddered and said, "What are you doing?"
Normally, she didn't question him. She would melt into his touch and become playdough in his hand, but right now she played her role. I wanted this therapy tape ready to help my patients accept that incest was okay. No, that it was something they should enjoy.
"Clint," my mother-in-law repeated, shuddering as he leaned in and nuzzled into her dyed-blonde hair. He went to kiss at her neck and her shoulders rolled, rebuffing her."Clint, you can't do this."
"Why not?" he groaned. "I can't stop thinking about you, Mom."
"That's exactly why," she groaned, her hands turning off the faucet. He kneaded her rump as he nuzzled into her neck. He kissed at her skin. She shuddered. "You're my son. This is wrong."
"I don't care," he said. "I know you're not getting enough. You're frustrated. In need. I can give you what you crave. I can give you the pleasure you're missing out."
"Clint," she whimpered as he squeezed her rump. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I, Mom?" His right hand slid around her hip, caressing her body through her dress. He slid up her stomach. His hand climbed higher and higher, vanishing beneath her apron. He reached her large breast, cupping it. squeezing it.
I shuddered, fighting against the heat gathering in my pussy. It rippled out of me. I rubbed my thighs together. My naked breasts swayed. I wanted to moan in delight as I watched Clint knead his mother's breast.
"Don't I know just what you need?" he growled as he squeezed her tit. "You are frustrated. Horny. You have a body that deserves to be worshiped. Mom, I'm here for you."
"But it's wrong," she groaned. "Your father, he's--"
"He's not here," he said. "He's never here. But I am, Mom." Clint turned her around and cupped her face. Her cheeks burned red. Her brown eyes darted around. His free hand cupped her breast through her apron and dress again. "Let me love you."
"Clint," she groaned, squirming. "This is wrong. Incest."
"It's love," he said.
Pussy juices ran down my thighs as she whimpered. Blood pumped through my veins. It flowed hot. My fingers quivered and twitched. This was driving me wild. I wanted to join their incestuous passion. The way his mother shuddered, how her lower lip quivered, had me aching.
"Let me love you, Mom," he said, leaning in. "Let me worship you. You deserve it, don't you?"
"I... I..." She shuddered. "Clint, please, we can't go down this road."
"Why not?" he asked.
"I... I don't know," she whispered, her eyes closing. "People say it's wrong."
"Who cares?"
Clint kissed her. I shuddered and my cunt clenched. This heat rippled through my body. It flooded through my flesh. My pussy burned with excitement as mother and son kissed. Their tongues danced together. My mother-in-law whimpered against her son. She trembled as he kissed her hard.
His hands roamed her body as he loved her. She surrendered into it. She kissed him with awakened passion. She moaned. He growled. I fought the urge to masturbate. I wanted to join them. To feel them loving my body. I flexed the fingers of my hand not holding the camcorder.
His hand grabbed the hem of his mother's skirt. He pulled it up. He drew it higher and higher. He raised her dress up her thigh, exposing more and more of her. She whimpered into the kiss. She shuddered against him, their tongues flashing.
He broke the kiss as he pulled her skirt up and over to expose the mauve panties she wore. His hand slid down and cupped her pussy through her panties. Her eyes widened. Her lower lips quivered in delight.
"Clint," she groaned.
"You're so hot and wet, Mom," he said, grinning. "You want this, don't you? We're here. Alone. No one has to know. We can love each other. It doesn't matter that you birthed me." His fingers thrust her panties to the side. She gasped as his digits slid through her dark bush. "You want me back in you."
"Clint," she whimpered. "This... I..."
