(Part 2 of 3)
You're probably thinking that I'm a despicable person. Cheating on my husband of twenty-five years, with our own son, no less. I won't sugar coat it. I knew how wrong it was. But I wanted it and I was going to do it.
You probably think the incest is the worst part of it. That certainly would be the worst thing if it were to be found out. But in my mind I had such a good relationship with my son that going to bed with him seemed like a natural progression. I loved him as a mother. Not much of a stretch from there to love him as a woman. And I trusted him. Better him than an outsider who might get ideas, make trouble for me. Besides, I had already crossed the line with him. In the heat of a moment I went down on him and swallowed his seed. At this point I felt we were just getting more of the same.
In my mind, the adultery was the worse part. I love my husband. He has been so good to me for all our life together. He was in his forties when we met, about my age now. I was just twenty-one at the time, Donnie's age now, coincidentally. I had very little dating experience at the time. In high school I could only go out with boys my mother picked out. None of them appealed to me. In college I was too focused on my studies to spend timet with boys. And I certainly wasn't going to "hook up", as the kids say, without a relationship.
When William and I married, he had experience enough for both of us. He was a wonderful lover and we both enjoyed his teaching me to please him. But his work took him around the world and our growing family kept me at home. I found this fulfilling when the kids were young. When they grew up and didn't need me so much I frequently found myself alone and bored. By now, the flame of William's passion was not burning nearly as bright.
He also grew more and more jealous for me. To keep him happy I severely curtailed my social life. I wouldn't leave the house by myself. I wouldn't fraternize with any men except clergy. Eventually my only public life consisted of charity work with the old women of our church. It wasn't a lot of fun, but it's the way my husband wanted it and I loved my husband. Then one day a young man showed interest in me. The young love I had never felt, never experienced, was suddenly ripening in my breast. I decided to indulge it for just one night and hopefully that would satisfy our curiosity.
*****
When we got to my bedroom Donnie wanted to make out. I wanted to tell him I didn't need any foreplay but this was a very special treat for him so I let him take his time to enjoy it. He was a great kisser and his hands were all over me as our tongues wrestled in each other's mouths. He began removing my clothing and his lips and tongue went where each article had been. He seemed determined to kiss and lick every inch of my body. He was so eager at the task that I had to caution him not to leave marks. Imagine having to explain a hickey or a bite mark.
He was especially interested in my breasts. As for me, breast play was a 'been there, done that' kind of thing. But of course I let him have his way with them. He kissed his way up my legs from the ankles to my curly bush and licked at my pussy. It felt good, but clearly he did not have much experience in this regard. I had never been in a position where I had to explain to someone how to do something like that. Until now, my husband had been the only one to go there, and he just knew. I was afraid that if I did say something to Donnie it might hurt my dear boy's feelings.
Anyway, I didn't need any foreplay just then, like I said, so I begged him to get that thing out of his pants and into my pussy. He did not need to be told twice and in no time he was on his knees between my spread legs, his stiff dick pointing to the ceiling. All day I had been thinking about how good he felt in my mouth and I was expecting him to feel so much better in my puss. Donnie pushed his cock up to my pussy lips and in one gasp-inducing thrust he was balls deep in his mother. Good thing I was already so wet for him.
He paused for a minute as if savoring the feeling of my tight wet hole enveloping his big dick. Then he began hammering into me. I've been fucked hard, but never that hard. It felt amazing at first but I have to admit that the appeal was limited. Donnie was loving it, though, judging by the grunts and groans he was making. If he liked it, that was good enough for me. How could I tell my son he was doing it wrong? He wasn't even doing it wrong, really. Just not as good as I was accustomed to. I guess my husband had spoiled me with his lovemaking.
It felt good though. I could periodically shift my body so at least Donnie was pounding the fuck out of me from subtly different angles. I brought one leg up his back, then the other. Then I brought them both up and linked my ankles behind his back. He kept fucking me and fucking me the whole time. It felt great. I just wasn't able to make any progress, if you know what I mean. I just hoped my young lover was enjoying it as much as he seemed to be. I wanted him to fondly remember this night in my bed, in my pussy.
It was kind of a relief when I heard his breathing get heavy and his pace slackened. I whispered in his ear, "Don't come in me, baby."
He was breathing very heavy and pounding into me as hard as he could, as if he wanted to penetrate me even deeper than he already was. "You like that, baby? You like fucking your mother's pussy?"
