My name is Sofia Ortega, once a wife of 25 years and mother of three boys. And my wild story begins when my middle son, Carlos, came home from his second year of college. He was nineteen at the time, and with the youngest son finally heading out for university himself, that meant Roberto, Carlos's father, and I were finally going to have the house to ourselves for the first time in over twenty years. A mother and father, finally alone after many long years working hard and raising a family, and we were still young enough to enjoy marriage to its fullest.
Too bad that our marriage wasn't going all that well.
Roberto's attitude toward me changed after I had our children. Pregnancy had definitely changed my body in a way he didn't like; Roberto had been attracted to me because I was very slim, and my breasts modest and perky.
After giving birth, my entire body had remodeled itself. My hips had grown exceptionally wider, my butt and thighs exploded in volume, and my breasts never reduced back to their original size after being flooded three times with breast milk for nursing.
It was shortly after that Rob's interest in me waned, and from that point on, he couldn't touch me without first getting drunk-which killed any enjoyment for me, especially since I didn't find the taste or smell of alcohol very arousing. So neither of us enjoyed sex with the other very much, and over time the frequency fell to once a month...then three times a year, if we were lucky.
On top of that, I'm almost certain that Rob cheated on me multiple times. He was starting to keep secrets from me, and he would often get defensive if he thought I'd looked into his phone. To be fair, though, I was never able to catch him at it, and there was always an airtight alibi. Someone always managed to vouch for his whereabouts on the occasions he returned home late or not at all. He had lots of powerful friends in Tulsa,
The experience made me feel gross and fatigued-how could I drum up any confidence in my appearance when even my own husband didn't want to touch me?
One day when I went into Carlos's room looking for him and found his laptop sitting on his bed open and unlocked. I peeked briefly inside the room to ask him to help me with some laundry, and was immediately about to leave when I saw something that made me spin on my heels.
Carlos's web browser was currently viewing an Incest Porn page-specifically, Mother-Son incest. I actually did a double take to make sure I read that correctly, but there it was, in 40-size font. The page was spread over with
dozens
of pictures of young men and middle-aged women doing dirty things to each other.
At that second, I heard footsteps behind me, along with a gasp of: "Oh, shit...!"
I spun around, my face frozen in a look of horror. Carlos, as well, was reflecting the same look back at me.
¿Carlos, Qué coño...?!" (Carlos, what the fuck...?!) I balked at him.
"It's just, like, a fetish," he defended. Though he tried to pass it off, he still dove past me, carrying the laptop from his bed to the desk, logging off, and closing it...clearly making an attempt to create distance from my discovery. He sat back in the chair, his foot fidgeting uncontrollably.
"Nobody who...who likes that stuff actually wants to bang their own relatives or anything. They just like the fantasy of it."
Thinking too much about the details of all this made my head spin. But what could I really do? Carlos was a grown man, which had only become too apparent when teachers had caught him and a girl screwing at senior prom. I knew that he wasn't a virgin, and he was no longer a child. He was an adult whose needs and desires were his own business.
That was the only thing that mattered, right?
And if the whole thing really was just a "fantasy", then that was fine-wasn't it?
Again, I didn't want to think too much about it.
"Just be more careful next time and don't leave stuff like that laying around. Believe me, my life was a lot happier before I had a clear picture of what my middle son did in his free time."
I wished that could have been the end of it, but after that first instance, I found myself snooping into his personal things more often. Carlos tried to be careful-he usually remembered to lock the computer if he was going to leave it alone for some time, but not always. When I found the opportunity, I took it upon myself to pry into his business again...I told myself that it was because I was afraid that he could be into something a lot less "innocent" than what I'd seen before...like something illegal, or far even far more depraved...somehow.
I
had
to know, I said, because I needed to have peace of mind.
Looking through his tabs and history, though, it was mostly more of the same. Carlos sure spent a lot of time looking for porn-but then again, he
was
a nineteen-year-old boy. He still frequented incest-themed porn sites and videos, but I now learned that he also enjoyed reading blogs or forums with people who claimed that they had sex with-and in some case, even had
children
with-their own relatives.
His favorite pages were all about Mother-Son couples. Looking through the images, I could now see that he was probably right about most of them being fake-not many of the people in them looked like they were actually related. And some were
clearly
porn stars or professionals just milking the fantasy. As he'd said, people loved to imagine fucking relatives, but not many of them seemed actually willing to do it.
But, unfortunately, that wasn't the only thing I noticed.
I could also see the search tags that Carlos had searched for: "Latina." "Bubble Butt." "Curves." "Big Tits." As a result of that combo, I couldn't help but notice that each of those women looked a little like
me.
And the scary thing about it was...I had grown
very
wet downstairs just thinking about it!
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Some time passed, and despite my best attempts to put that out of my mind, I failed miserably. I couldn't sit in the same room as Carlos without checking his behavior, wondering if he looked at me the same as the women in those searches. I paid attention to every move, every gesture he made, and sometimes I thought I may have seen him staring at me. I felt hesitant and unsure, not knowing whether he was undressing me with his eyes at that very moment, or if it was simply my imagination getting away with me.
I would lay up night thinking about it. Eventually, the thoughts even invaded my dreams. More than once, my dreams involved various sexual scenarios between me and Carlos. Some of them with my consent, and some without.
One dream had Carlos and I meeting for a secret rendezvous; while I consciously realized the immorality of what I was doing, my body moving on its own and ignored my pleas to cease. Gazing into my son's strong brown eyes, I unbuttoned his shirt, then undid his belt and unbuckled his belt and pants. One after another, my hands shed his clothes with a hurried rhythm. And finally, when he was finally undressed, I mounted him and sat slowly on his long cock, fully engorging myself upon it as the two of us began to thrust our conjoined bodies.
In another dream, Carlos directly propositioned me, telling me in no uncertain terms that I was born to become his woman and surrender my body to him. I would refuse such a foolish proposal, but as I turned to leave, his hand would catch my wrist and spin me back to face him. With a frightening, but powerful gaze in his eyes, Carlos would pin the one arm to the wall and forcefully kiss me, pushing his warm, slick tongue all the way down my throat. After almost smothering me with the kiss, he would pull away only to use his free hand to rip my blouse off of my body, and then my bra, exposing my tits for him to squeeze and grope at his leisure. Everything would move quickly after that, with every article of clothing stripped from my body and Carlos pounding me hard against the wall until he came inside my steaming wet pussy.
I dreamed of this countless times, with many variations in between. I would wake up next to my
husband at night soaked from head to toe, both in sweat and my own cum.
In late August, our community put together our Annual Pool Party, held in the luxurious backyard of one of our well-off neighbors. It was usually expected that everyone show up, as this was only one of three times in the year that the entire neighborhood got together...including my boss, who happened to be very close friends with Rob.
This year, the party was Hawaiian themed, so everyone was supposed to come dressed in stereotypical luau garb. I bought a simple grass skirt and a skimpy top that looked like it was made of flowers. Making my way to the host's home, I was secretly proud of the many stops and stares I got in my direction, as it felt good that I could still turn heads even in my middle age.
I greeted the host's wife, and we kissed each others' cheeks while she took my contribution to the potluck. Inside, I saw several familiar faces mingling-as I said, we did this every year, so there weren't many surprises on that level.
Though this year, I
was
surprised to find someone I hadn't expected: Carlos.
