Mother/son Incest Games We Play

All characters portrayed in this story are over the age of 18-years-old. There are no minor characters in this story.

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Continued from chapter 1:

Just as I knew he would, that night, my last night staying in my father's house before moving to my new apartment, my Dad entered my bedroom. When he opened my bedroom door, I could see from the hall nightlight that he was naked and already had an erection. Ready for him to take me and have his wicked, sexual way with my naked body in my feigned, drug induced sleep, I was already naked. I was sleeping in the nude. All he needed to do to see my naked body was to remove the sheet.

I was so wet while hoping my father would remove the sheet from my naked body. I was so wet while hoping my father would touch my naked body and feel my naked body. I was so wet while hoping that my father would fuck me in my feigned, drug induced sleep. I hadn't taken the sleeping pill, of course, but just pretended that I had.

Then, just as I hoped he would, he ever so slowly and gently removed the sheet. As soon as he removed the sheet my nipples erected themselves even more than they were before when I saw that my Dad was naked. It was dark in my room but light enough for me to see the outline of his erect cock, for him to see my tits and pussy, and for me to watch him put a condom on his cock. I couldn't wait for him to sexually touch me. I couldn't wait for him to incestuously feel me.

While watching for my reaction and watching if I'd awaken, he felt my breasts, first one and then the other. Then, when I didn't stir, he fingered my nipples before leaning down to suck my nipples, first one and then the other. Oh, my frigging God, I couldn't believe my Dad not only fingered my nipples but also sucked my nipples.

Showing him that I enjoyed having my nipples fingered and sucked, I moved slightly and lightly moaned. Then, going for broke, he reached his horny hand down between my shapely legs and fingered my wet pussy before spreading my legs and mounting me. Fuck me! My father mounted me. I couldn't believe my Dad was on top of me.

Obviously not wanting to awaken me by putting all of his weight on top of me, he supported his weight on his hands and knees while moving his cock to my pussy. With just a gentle hump, parting my vaginal lips and with me already so very wet, my Dad's cock slid deep inside of me. As if I was dreaming my father making love to me and/or sexually fantasizing feeling his cock inside of me, I couldn't believe my Dad was having sexual intercourse with me. When it was obvious that I wouldn't wake up, my father continued making love to me before he started fucking me. My father was fucking me. Humping me harder and faster, my father was giving me the fucking of my young life.

"Oh, my God, oh," I said. "Fuck me, Bobby. Fuck me. I'm going to cum," I pretended say in my sleep. "I'm cumming, Bobby. I'm cumming," I said.

I could tell by the loaded condom that my Dad had filled with his spent cum that he had ejaculated when he gave me an orgasm. My father fucked me. My Dad gave him an orgasm with his cock. I couldn't believe my father allowed me to suck him one night and fucked me the next. Maybe tomorrow, he'd finger my pussy while licking my pussy.

Chapter 2:

A curious sexual phenomenon, I wondered if anyone had done a study on why relatives, especially fathers and daughters and/or mother and sons, have incestuous sex with one another. When there are so many men and women in the world willing to have free sex with someone, what makes for that uncontrollable and irresistible, sexual attraction between a father and daughter and a mother and son? Even though I don't fully understand it, I'm cursed by having incestuous lust first for my father and now for my son. Not only was I sexually and incestuously attracted to my father before but also I was sexually and incestuously attracted to my son now too.

Where so very many fathers and daughters and mothers and sons, more mothers and sons than fathers and daughters, I suspected, have incestuous sex, I wondered why. Other than the obvious reasons for having incestuous sex, I wondered what the psychological reasons were for wanting and having incestuous sex. I'd be curious to know why blood related relatives had become so sexually attracted to one another. Certainly, I could more understand the incestuous attraction one hundred, two hundred, or more years ago.

A time before the Internet with people living out in the wilderness or on a lonely farm, with no one else around, it would make sense that a brother would want to have sex with his sister. Not condoning but I understand why a father might want to have sex with his daughter, especially if his wife had died and she reminded him of her mother, his wife. Especially if her husband had been killed by Indians or rustlers, I could understand a lonely, sexually frustrated mother wanting to have sex with her son. No doubt for safety sake, sex was how a mother could keep her son from leaving the family farm and abandoning her to fend for herself.

Yet, that was then and this is now. With nightclubs and bars, sex is everywhere today. One doesn't have to look to their blood relatives to get laid. So, what's the excuse now for a father having sex with his daughter? What's the justification now for a mother having sex with her son? What's the reason for a brother having sex with his sister? What's the sexual need for a first cousin to have sex with his first cousin, a nephew with his aunt, and an uncle with his niece? Why would a grandmother have sex with her grandson and/or a grandfather have sex with his granddaughter?

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If I was asked why I'm sexually attracted to my son, I'd say that with me not having a man in my life, I'm bored. I'm lonely. I'm horny and I'm sexually frustrated. I'm sure my son would say the same thing about why he was sexually attracted to me too. With him not having a steady woman in his life, no doubt he was bored too for him to do some of the sexual things he had done with me.

In the way his grandfather was before him, I'm sure my son, Daniel, was just as horny, as sexually frustrated, and as lonely as my Dad was then and as I am now. Only, other than the obvious reasons of having incestuous sex with my father and now with my son, I'm sure there were other underlying reasons why some women feel the need to have incestuous sex when other women don't. With people not being honest, I suspect that half the world's population has had forced or consensual, incestuous sex with their blood related relatives. Whether it's the feelings of guilt, embarrassment, and/or shame most people aren't honest about confessing to the incestuous sex they've had.

Again, with my son much like his grandfather before him, my father masturbated all the time while flashing me his flaccid and erect cock. An incestuous game he enjoyed playing with me, I wasn't just a voyeur in that game but a player too by me returning the exhibitionism favor of flashing my father my body. With my son masturbating all the time while flashing me his flaccid and erect cock in the way his grandfather did, I know that Daniel was just as horny as he was sexually frustrated. I'm not making an excuse or justification for my forbidden, incestuous behavior by blaming my inappropriate sexual behavior on my son in the way that I blamed my voyeurism and exhibitionism on my father. If anything, I take full responsibility for sexually teasing my son in the way my father sexually teased me.

When I saw how horny and sexually frustrated my son obviously was, my motherly instincts kicked in. Again, not my justification or excuse, I'm just stating the facts as they happened. In the way I thought about my father sexually, I later regretted not having sex with my Dad earlier and having more sex with him. Understanding his incestuous plight, I so wanted to help ease my son's horniness and sexual frustrations as well as my own. If only I knew then what I know now, I would have given my father incestuous sex sooner and much more often. Yet, now that I know my son is going through what his grandfather went through before him, perhaps I can correct the mistakes I made in the past by not delaying us having sex now instead of waiting until later.

For sure, if I had a boyfriend or a steady man in my life, I don't think I'd be as sexually attracted to my son as I am. If I wasn't as bored, as lonely, as horny, and as sexually frustrated, I don't think that I'd be as sexually attracted to Daniel as I was. Then, again, there's the convenience of him being here and us growing closer while watching a movie and cuddling on the couch in the way I used to do with my Dad. Only, more exciting for me to cuddle with my son than it was to cuddle with my father, so firm and so muscular, my son has a much better body than did my Dad.

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In the way I did with my father by always making my touches seem unintentional and my flashes appear accidental, it was always so hard for me not to touch my son's cock, stroke his cock, suck his cock, and fuck his cock. My favorite, subtle thing to do with my son, something that drove him crazy, was to innocently rest my hand on his cock while cuddling with him on the couch. I don't even have to rest my entire hand, just any part of my hand will do, from my fingertips to my palm. Knowing full well that I was teasing him but pretending that I wasn't aware how much, as soon as his flaccid cock became erect and pulsated against my hand, I'd move my hand away.

Even after moving my hand away, the damage was already done. My son had a throbbing erection. It was my intention to give my son an erection by leaving my hand in contact with his pajama clad cock. God, I'm such an incestuous whore.

Not taking more than a minute or two, I knew as soon as I rested my hand where a mother should never rest her hand on her son, his cock would throb with incestuous lust for me. With my subtle, sexual message already sent, I gave my son a massive erection by innocently resting my hand on his flaccid prick. Now that I did my part, it was up to him to do his part. I was waiting for him to put my hand on his cock but he didn't. I was waiting for him to grab my breast through my nightgown but he didn't do that either. If only he had made his incestuous, sexual move, I would have made all of the next incestuous moves.

Something out of my control, it's hard not to think of my son sexually when we're cuddling on the couch while watching a movie with his erection poking my hand, my forearm, my side, or my ass. A sexy, incestuous game we both enjoy playing, I pretend not to notice that he's sexually aroused. I pretend not to notice that my son has a hard-on for me, his mother.

Acting like the morally modest mother that I'm not, I pretend not to notice his hard, hairy cock tenting his pajama bottoms. I pretend not to notice the head of his cock peeking out of his pee hole as if teasing me to touch him, stroke him, suck him, and fuck him. Yet whenever I know that he's sexually aroused enough to have an erection, being the incestuous whore that I am, I enjoy sexually teasing him even more.

Brushing my hand or my forearm by his erect cock, my intention is to hopefully sexually tease him enough for him to make a move by grabbing my breast or my ass through my sheer, sexy nightgown. Just once, I'd love for him to take me by my wrist, put my hand on his exposed prick, and force me to wrap my fingers around him. If ever he did, I'd fondle his cock before stroking his cock. I'd lick his prick before sucking his prick. I'd make love to his dick before fucking his dick. Only, never crossing the line of incest by taking the next incestuous step, he never put my hand on his cock.

Whether it's my hand, my arm, my side, or my ass, I always put some part of my body in close, constant contact with his hard, erect prick. Brushing against me, rubbing on me, and gently humping me, I enjoyed making my son just as horny as I enjoyed making myself sexually excited. While making myself more comfortable when adjusting my position, I've slid my hand over his cock plenty of times just as he had slid his horny hands across my breasts and nipples plenty of times too.

I'm sure, just as I've thought about blowing my son, he had thought about his mother blowing him. In the way I sucked my father's cock and allowed him to cum in my mouth, I'd love to suck my son's cock and allow him to cum in my mouth too. Just as I swallowed my father's cum, I'd love to swallow my son's cum too. I'm sure, just as I've thought about making love to Daniel, he had thought about making love to me. I'm sure, just as I've thought about fucking my son, he had thought about fucking his mother too.

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Not an excuse, just a fact but we do everything together. We're so very close. Maybe we're too close. Maybe we do too much and spend too much time together. We talk, we laugh, and we joke over a morning cup of coffee and over a drink at night. Sometimes holding hands or walking arm in arm as if we're boyfriend and girlfriend, lovers, or husband and wife, we go for long walks. We go to the beach, not a nude beach of course, and we do things around the house together. We spend most of our days and all of our nights together, albeit in separate bedrooms.

Thinking that I would have learned from my father to either shit or get off the pot, either I'm going to have incestuous sex with my son or I'm not. Here I go all over again with all of the game playing, role playing, and sexual teasing. Instead of just playing, silly incestuous games, getting it over with, maybe I should just grab his cock, stroke him, suck him, and fuck him. Maybe years from now, with no one knowing what we sexually and incestuously did behind closed bedroom doors, he'd look upon having had sex with his mother with love, sexual excitement, fondness. With us both consenting adults and with me not taking sexual advantage of him, it wouldn't be as if he'd be a sexually abused child.

Yet, instead of going all of the way across the incestuous line, sometimes it's enough for me to just walk the line and sexually tease him instead of having sex with him. Sometimes teasing him is nearly as much fun as the perception of having sex with him. Sometimes, it's enough for me to just to show him an in between my legs flash of my panties in an up skirt peek when slowly and seductively crossing my legs. Sometimes it's enough for me to flash him my pussy in an up nightgown peek while sitting across from him with my knees parted just enough for him to see what my son should never see of his mother. Always, just as I pretend that I don't know that I'm showing him all that I'm showing him, I pretend not to notice him looking.

Sometimes, when leaning over him to serve him his food or beverage, it's enough for me to deliberately flash him a down blouse view of my bra and cleavage or a down nightgown view of my breasts, areolas, and nipples. Sometimes it's enough for me to masturbate myself after exposing some part of my underwear clad or naked body to him. Yet, sometimes I need more than just flashing him forbidden peeks of my sexy body and later masturbating myself. Just as I need more too, I assume that he needs more too. Obviously, as do I need more than just exhibitionism, voyeurism, and masturbation, sometimes he needs more than seeing some sexy peeks of my body, masturbating himself, and flashing me his cock. Sometimes there's no substitute for hot, forbidden, and deeply penetrating sex.

That's where our mother and son incestuous sex story begins.

### TallBlondeBustyBlueEyedBimbo ###

Having always played in the Devil's incestuous playground, first with my father and now with my son, I still continue to play with fire. Having always played our sexy, incestuous games since he turned 18-years-old and when I was 41-years-old, I'd have to go back four years to unravel the incestuous games we played to get to this point. Just as it suddenly started with my father, it suddenly started with my son. Just as I blamed my father for leading me astray down the incestuous path, I blame myself for leading my son astray down the incestuous path.

An endless cycle of inappropriate, incestuous sex, like father like daughter and like mother like son, the progression continues. Now I wonder if my grandmother had incestuous sex with my father. In the way that I flashed my son my tits, pussy, and ass and my son flashed me his cock, maybe my grandmother flashed my father her tits, pussy, and ass whenever he flashed her his cock. An endless, incestuous cycle, maybe in the way my father had sex with me and in the way that I'm about to have sex with my son, my father had sex with his mother. Nonetheless the sexual skeletons my family hid in their closets, other than we were both horny, I'm not even sure why and how the incestuous sex started with my son but it did.

With me the adult, in the way my father finally apologized to me and accepted full responsibility for leading me astray later in life, I accept full responsibility for leading my son astray. Just as my father apologized to me, years from now, I'll no doubt apologize to my son. Obviously flashing my son my tits, my ass, and my pussy stemmed from my Dad flashing me his cock and from me flashing my father my underwear clad, semi-naked, and naked body. With incest cursed to repeat itself, sometimes I really do feel as if I was bitten by a vampire and have now bitten my son and infected him with the lust of uncontrollable incest and forbidden lust.

From me deliberately walking in on him when I knew he'd be masturbating in his room to asking him to bring me a towel when I was taking a bubble bath, I was the one who always sexually teased him. Now, morphing to where it is now, whenever he was horny, something new, he started entering my bedroom while I was sleeping. He didn't enter my bedroom every night, just on those nights that I sexually teased him and uncontrollably aroused him. With cock in hand, even in the dark, without seeing him clearly, in the way I saw my father naked, I knew my son would be standing there naked too while staring at me and lusting over me.

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At first, I was startled that he'd dare come in my bedroom during the dead of night. Figuring that he'd touch and feel me where he always wanted to touch and feel me, his perfect opportunity to do so, I was surprised when he didn't. Now not knowing what he'd do, it was just as frightening as it was sexually exciting to see him standing there naked while masturbating himself.

Then, figuring that he'd force me to have sex with him and, perhaps, even rape me, I was even more startled that he'd leave my bedroom without doing anything but to masturbate himself while watching me sleep. Yet, now accustomed to him becoming so horny during the night with all of the flashing I did during the day, I've grown accustomed to seeing his naked shadow. I've grown accustomed to him giving me a masturbation show while I gave him a show of exhibitionism show of my naked body as I pretended that I was sleeping.

As if he was watching a peepshow or a motionless Andy Warhol movie, he just stood there watching me sleep while he masturbated himself. Totally harmless, he never touched, felt me, fondled me, or fingered me. A bit bizarrely baffling, as if he hoped that I'd awaken and see and watch him stroke his cock, he masturbated himself in my bedroom while I pretended to sleep.

I wondered what he was thinking while he masturbated himself and while he stared down at me. No doubt, for him to enter my bedroom naked, he must have thought of me naked while having sex with my naked body. I only wish he'd touch me and feel me. If only he'd touch and feel me, I'd touch and feel him too.