1
My name is Lucy and I am a 46 year old single mother, never married. I'm a short 5'2" grey eyed brunette, with quite an athletic body (I go running every day), but just enough of a handful up front and from behind.
I have a 28 year old son, who moved back home two years ago and stayed here after the divorce ending his three year long marriage also cost him his job with his ex-wife's mother's company. He never got back on his feet quite the same and now that he's trying to contend with much lower pay, we decided that he could just stay here and stop his mother from being so lonely.
It's cheaper for the both of us and leaves us with a little more in pocket. Plus, I'd do anything for him. God knows having a C-section just to have him earned me the right to keep him if I want to. And I already do pretty much anything for him but we'll get to that.
In the five years since Ed first moved in with then-girlfriend/destined to become ex-wife, Gina, life was lonely and boring. I found myself with little to no company outside of work. Being that I wasn't new to the world, yes I never gave up on trying to get myself a boyfriend, if not a genuine and un-creepy date once in a while.
It was rare to even find a man who was even interested in being a friend, which is the simple way I go about finding date and boyfriend material. But of course I was at the age beyond which everyone was already married, if not single for reasons that made me wonder. Maybe others felt the same about me, who knows, but the long and short of it was that I got stuck with vibrators instead.
As the women amongst you know, vibrators may not come with drama and dishonesty - true - but they also lack the excitement. For years that excitement was fuelled by porn and erotica. Gradually everything became "vanilla". I wasn't into anal, which is, like, 60% of all porn, and I wasn't into gay or bi or shemale stuff either. It was after I went through a depressed period, not being affected by anything at all, and losing my libido, that I happened upon some darker stuff.
And that brings us to how four years ago I started to get into taboo erotica, forbidden relations, and specifically mother and son incest sex fantasies.
2
At first it began with reading the stories on Literotica. Everything I ever read or watched was on the Internet. My son's old laptop became my best friend and my social life, and my excuse for a sex life. But when I tried to find other sites like Lit, nothing else quite hit the spot!
Naturally, the way social media and the government like to scare you into thinking that somebody is always checking your search history from some dark, seedy CIA office cubical, that was the only thing that made me scared and reluctant to truly let loose with this guilty little pleasure.
I hadn't come as hard as I did with a decently written sex fantasy like I did on this site. It was new, dark, exciting. I couldn't believe that I was into this stuff, but sometimes the way such a story will suck you in, teasing your curiosity and sometimes just building and building on chemistry and suspense, it slowly won me over. Within half a year I'd exhausted my favourite stories. I needed more. And I needed more than erotic fiction. I needed something more real, if not visual.
After getting in touch with a few of my favourite writers there I found out what their influences were and where they would go to find inspiration. Well the dam broke. It just so happened that this dirty little fantasy of mine wasn't such a secret. There were pages hidden in the annals of social media sites devoted to the filthy incest, and sometimes filled with real life instances of family who were deep into the habit (and each other).
Tumblr was an apocalyptic mushroom cloud of incest and mother on son sex. Reddit had endless groups devoted to it. More and more porn sites were starting to test the waters with their users. Incest was already by then a budding alternate niche. Granted, none of it was real, but that didn't stop it from being a lot of fun.
One of my favourite performers, for the record, has to be Rachel Steele AKA The Red MILF. We don't look alike, but we are similar. She has a bit more meat on her bones and slightly bigger tits. And I wear my hair in a ponytail most of the time, I do look younger naturally, and you're more likely to see me in black lycra leggings and a tee than silk gowns and lingerie.
I absolutely love her longer episodes; the ones where her son cums inside her when the condom breaks, so they just carry on having sex bareback in every other position to make it count. Those ones excited me the most. Because Ed was married and living the life elsewhere, it was around that point when I started to fantasise for myself, about me and him being in the same situation. Nothing fired me up quite like that, ever!
I fucked myself rigid thinking up all these different scenarios in my mind, but it was getting ridiculous. I was getting home at six, being in bed for nine, then finally falling asleep exhausted at between one and two in the morning. And yet I needed more...
I became bolder, searching Google for anything I could get my hands on, but nothing. I signed up to a porn site and it was there that I was given a link to a place called Motherless. I wasn't prepared for the sheer amount of incest floating around that website.
Within just over a year of getting into this new kink, I was a shameless incest addict, caring about nothing but mothers fucking with their sons, and I wondered; "honestly, what the fuck is my life anyway?"
I now had memberships to every major incest friendly site on the internet. I was joining groups just to read from mothers and sons who were trying to seduce each other and start sexual relationships with each other. I was a jaded whore if I sensed the slightest hint of bullshit. I needed the real thing.
I wasn't ready for the night Ed showed up on our doorstep with an overnight bag and the most tragic, defeated look on his face.
3
It took eight months for Ed to break out of his depression when the company kicked him like a bad habit. Mark my words, when we'd gone the polite and respectful way about trying to salvage something, I made sure that the horrid cunts feared my name. It wasn't fair. Ed's wife was cheating on him, all along, and he was the bad habit?
He was dosed up on antidepressants and sleeping pills a lot of the time, and on top of that, diazepam for his anxiety, which was the most scared I'd ever been for him in his life. I was worried however about the time he was spending at home, and often locked away in his room for hours at a time.
And apart from the looking after him, trying to keep him in good spirits, I was suffering myself from my sudden loss of privacy. Even if I had any, a lot of the time he would borrow the laptop (his anyway) and stay up all night talking to his friends online. That's what I thought anyway. Even if he watched a lot of porn, who was I to judge?
1.)I didn't realise just how relaxed I'd gotten, to the point where I failed to see what was actually going on.
2.)I totally failed to erase the browsing history, and it didn't occur to me that Ed might have seen every single dirty little secret that I thought was safe with me. That was until...
One day Ed asked me to drive him to PC World. Things were looking a bit brighter, he was getting paid again, and he wanted to buy himself a new laptop. When we were back at the house later, he brought me the old laptop and handed it over with a question that didn't have alarm bells ringing until when I was relaxed in bed and frigging off to some wholesome family inbreeding - a story about a boy trying to help his mother get pregnant after his dad's balls dried up...
'Mom, what's this Literotica site I keep seeing on your laptop?' he asked.
