Oral isn't incest is it?
It was madness. I knew that it was crazy, stupid and dangerous and I should have stopped him but we had gone so far, too far maybe so how could I now? And, if the truth were known, I didn't want to stop him. My desire for him had gone beyond what it should and now fully embraced the sexual side of love as well as the emotional need. I had suspected it for some time but now I realised with a jolt that I wanted him to make love to me yes, I wanted my twenty-two year-old son to fuck me.
I had been pushed back onto the pile of pillows and cushions on the settee and he was half lying on me. My skirt had ridden up my bare legs and was barely covering my knickers. I guess what then happened was inevitable, it was the next step in love making. As we kissed he put his hand on my leg midway between my knee and the hem of my skirt. Although it had been a long time since I had been in a similar situation I, as most women would, was acutely aware of what was going to happen next. As he sucked and licked my breasts and kissed and nibbled my nipples so his hand slid slowly up my legs.
Lying nearly flat with one leg from the knee down hanging over the edge of the sofa and the other stretched out on it, they were inevitably slightly open. His pathway to where he obviously wanted to go was open and as if assuming he had my agreement without any further hesitation he slid his hand up and right onto my vulva covered by my panties. I grunted and gripped him harder as an enormous surge of sensations roared through me.
"Oh Peter, Peter," I groaned, clinging to him as he rubbed me in my most feminine spot and the place from which he had entered this world.
"Mum, mum, Oh Jay," he sighed back as unconsciously and without thinking my womanly instincts took over and my hand went to his erection inside his jeans. It felt so big and hard and ready.
I fumbled at his belt and zip and between us we opened his jeans so I could get my hand inside and onto his erection in his boxers. As I held it I found out that indeed it was big, hard and very ready.
"Come to bed mum please."
"No Peter we can't, we mustn't."
"Mum we must, we need each other."
"No darling we can't make love."
"What do you mean, I want to be inside you mum."
"No, we mustn't do that," I said rather illogically as I stroked his rigid cock.
"We must mum, I want us to make love."
"We can't, it's forbidden it's illegal."
"What then?"
"This," I moaned as I started masturbating him. "But Peter you must never, ever tell anyone."
"I won't, I promise."
"You must mean it darling, not even Sara or any of your mates.
"I promise mum."
"Then do it to me too."
"What?"
"This," I said, undoing the press stud and sliding the short, brass zip down at the front of the blue, denim skirt that was possibly a little too short for a woman in her mid-forties.
"What mum, what do you mean?"
I started to push the skirt down my but it got caught on my hips and between me and the bed.
"Oh shit," I groaned, changing tack and instead pulling the skirt up round my hips.
"Oh Jay yes, yes," he sighed, looking at me lying there with my top that he had pushed up around my neck and my skirt bunched round my waist. I wasn't wearing a bra so my breasts were bare and due to my position, age and their D cup size were sagging slightly to either side of my body and all of my legs and knickers were on show.
Grabbing his hand I pushed it between my legs while at the same time I gripped his erection.
"Do it like this Peter," I groaned as I began pumping his cock.
He got the idea and started rubbing my clit and all around and on the lips of my pussy. It was gorgeous.
"Mum I won't last long," he groaned, pumping himself in my hand as we found the same rhythm.
"Finger me darling, put them in me," I moaned back and then grunted as I felt him sliding a finger or more likely two into me as at the same time we kissed.
I pushed down on his fingers loving the wonderful sensations rushing through my body as Peter and I made love, albeit not full penetrative.
"Oh yes Jay, yes, pump it mum," he groaned.
I could feel the tension increasing in his penis indicating his nearness as, at the same time, I felt myself welling up both physically and emotionally. I started to cry and the kiss broke up.
"Mum I'm there, I'm cumming, what can we do," he whined trying to pull his cock away.
"No don't do that," I groaned through the increasing pangs of my exploding orgasm.I pulled him back so that my hand holding his erection was hovering over my breasts as I groaned. "Cum on me Peter, cum on mummy's tits."
Then with a series of grunts from him and deep moans from me we both climaxed with him sending stream after stream of cum over and between my breasts.
"Oh mum that was amazing," he sighed, collapsing onto me as pangs of orgasmic fulfillment wracked my body.
*
Looking back to that incident I realised that we had been building up to it for some time, probably several years. But until then nothing overtly sexual had happened between my son Peter and me. Since my marriage had started falling apart due to John's philandering, Peter and I had grown closer. It was almost as if he was replacing his father. And the night that I kicked John out for yet another peccadillo, he did replace him in another way. Up until then it had been as the man around the house, but that afternoon and evening he replaced his father as my lover as well.
As he recovered from the climax I had given him with my hand so he told me how wonderful it was and how he wanted more.
"We can't have more Peter."
"We can mum, please let's go to bed."
"No, no," I said as firmly as I could knowing that in my mind there was nothing I wanted more. "We mustn't."
I wanted to pull my top down and cover my breasts but they were covered with his sperm. I mumbled.
"No Peter we mustn't."