MY SON'S SEX TOY

When am I ever going to learn? Maybe I should stop drinking, though actually I don't drink very much. Or maybe I should just give-up sex, but I really love that sparkling feeling. Even though up until now, I have been mostly pleasuring myself, viewing porn on the computer and fingering my insatiable clitoris. Maybe it was my religious training that started me down this perverted path. I guess if I could do it all over, I might have gone on more dates, tried a few more things, loosened-up a bit and had a few more experiences. Instead, I've become a repressed, submissive, middle-aged woman slowly slipping into a taboo pattern of debauchery and incest. And against everything I was raised to believe-in, my inner-most fantasies are revealed in my lustful enthusiasm for being a sexual slave to my son.

I was married as a teenager to a selfish SOB that I met at a religious meeting. He was much older than me and knew all the "right" things to seduce and manipulate me. After less than two years, he claimed I was a frigid bitch and left me with a baby and some deep emotional scars. It took years to put my life in order and be able to raise a nice young man. My son Jeff is now twenty-three, he was a collegiate wrestler and now works as a free-lance artist, illustrating a line of graphic comics.

My life has been fairly ordinary. Friends say I'm pretty and I try to keep in shape. I'm 5'5", slim and small-waisted. My hair is a muddy-blonde shade, I have long toned legs and a firm pert chest. I jog regularly and play tennis twice a week with some of the neighborhood ladies, and though they have attempted to "fix me up" on dates, I still prefer to be a stay-at-home mom, and lead a fairly sheltered life, until recently.

The first nutty incident happened about five years ago. It seemed at the time a silly, harmless, little taboo slip-up that could be easily excused as a family joke that went a bit too far. It was New Year's Eve and Jeff, acting as a dutiful son, stayed home with his lonely mom to help welcome-in the year. We watched the ball drop on television, exchanged a chaste kiss and opened a bottle of cheap champagne. At about twelve-thirty, things got a little dull.

Being an athlete and under twenty-one, Jeff wasn't used to drinking. My name is Jaime, and as I've said, I don't drink much either. But since it was a holiday; he opened a second bottle while I slipped into my pajamas, he changed into sweatpants and we lounged on the sofa, giggling. He was doing his best to raise my spirits and I was remarking that he was a wonderful son for giving-up a night of revelry with his friends to keep his mother company. A mother always thinks her son is wonderful. On this night I was playfully squeezing his thick biceps and running my fingers over his muscular thighs as I boozily dribbled champagne over the both of us. He would laughingly tug at my long, blonde locks, and tickle my ribs as "punishment" for spilling my drinks.

Somehow, at a certain point, we started a silly game of "Truth or Dare." I asked him crazy questions like: How does such a handsome blue-eyed kid like wrestling on a gym mat with sweaty guys, then showering together in a roomful of hot, naked men? I mentioned that with all that body contact and nudity in close quarters, he must have seen or experienced a few hard cocks.

On his turns, he asked if I wasn't really asking for myself, and my deep wish to be taken sexually. Then he asked if my nipples always get hard when I talk about sex, and at the same moment, we both looked at the obvious protrusions poking through my flimsy top. More nervous laughter and long, silent stretches followed.

It was an alcohol-fueled game and I hoped he was nearly as embarrassed as I felt. And though I recognized that it was becoming a touch inappropriate, I enjoyed the bonding experience, and besides it was just harmless banter between mother and son. After one or two more rounds, my slightly inebriated son asked "a big one." Mom, since I can practically see your boobs already, will you take your shirt off?" This was a big "dare." I gulped my wine and hesitated a moment. He had that big grin on his chiseled, sexy face. I was just about to refuse when he said, "I knew you couldn't do it." He just laughed bawdily and took another sip.

Blame it on the champagne, I said, "I can't take it off, but I'll show you." Now, I wasn't wearing a bra and I don't have big tits, (I'm a 34B) but they're firm, they're cute and they're mine. And the nipples were getting pointy and tender from rubbing on the thin material. I curled both hands under the hem of my pajama top and quickly lifted and lowered my shirt. It felt so weird and strangely salacious to "flash" my son. I have seen pictures of women at Mardi Gras doing it for beads, and it always seemed playful and a cheap thrill. A little feeling of independence.

But there was something else; an odd, submissive twinge of wanting to obey sexual orders that left me feeling naughty. It was wanting to do what I was told, by a young, strong man...and a kinky thought that it was my son. Jeff's eyes popped out of his head- I think more because I did it, than actually glimpsing my breasts. "Hey wait," he protested, "I never even saw them. You have to do it again, slower." The taboo tremor I got from exposing myself to my son, excited me in an erotic, sensual way. And for a second I wondered if he had been correct about my sexual submissiveness. And then I instantly noticed the enormous bulge swelling in his uncomfortably tight trousers. I think any woman likes to be the object of sexual desire, and there was definitely a wicked sensation about flirting with my grown son. So I decided to give him another small show, but with a little teasing twist. I began to fiddle with the buttons on my shirt, and slowly reveal my cleavage and firm belly to his hungry eyes, I kept my small, pink, nipples tantalizingly hidden in the folds of my top. With each step of the process, my body felt warmer and a sweaty glow formed on my torso and face. I was flush with excitement and pent-up passion when my trembling fingers finally loosened the final button. I don't know which of us was hotter when the cotton material finally slid down my arms and my perky breasts were fully revealed. I shimmied a little to give my boobs a small shake. And I could not contain my smile.

Jeff swallowed deep, and still some slobber seeped down his chin. His boyish face reddened and he momentarily averted his light-blue eyes. He stared as if in a trance and his lower lip hung open, I must admit I was experiencing a nasty, prohibited, emotion. I felt suddenly awkward while his lustful eyes took a complete inventory of my chest, but his deviant smile and the low growls he uttered, were incredibly sensual. My eyes again, were drawn to the mountain in his pants.

I stuttered, "I think it's only fair that you show me what you've got hidden in there," as I pointedly rubbed a painted fingernail along the length of his iron-hard erection. I'll never understand what made me say that, but a chill ran down my bare back. Did I truly want to see my son's hard cock, and what else could this possibly lead to? He shyly stood up infront of me and untied the thin cord holding his pants. Standing at my eye-level, I spied the curved bulk of his massive cock as he wiggled the sweats down his muscular legs. His coiled pubic hair was light-brown and matted down from (I hope) perspiration. His purplish balls were full and plump, and hung inches below.

"Is this what you want?" he asked tentatively. I thought for a moment there was mockery in his voice, or was I just feeling guilty at what was taking place, literally right before my eyes? He bounced his hips and his gigantic member bobbed and swayed infront of me like a cobra rising from a Shaman's basket. "Do you like it?" again he prodded me. I could only numbly nod, with a great lump in my throat and my mouth suddenly dry. I was sitting bare-chested infront of my eighteen year-old son, his mammoth cock swaying hypnotically, inches from my confused, flustered face. My hair was now damp with sweat and clinging to my back and neck. My chest heaved with rapid, shallow breaths, my boobs now danced on their own. It was the vision of that incredible cock that held my eyes. The strong upward curve of it looked so solid. And the great mushroomed head aimed at his flat belly. The sheer thickness of this beast seemed to call my shaking hand to reach for it. My hand looked tiny as I fought to contain it's living girth, and my reluctant fingers timidly inched towards the tip and daintily fingered the fleshy, helmeted knob. I slowly lowered it to my face for a closer, more intimate inspection. I involuntarily licked my lips, some drool running down my chin, now. I was not even conscious of his one strong hand playfully kneading my mounds, and his other hand grabbing hold of my wet hair. I was slightly aware of him grunting.

This was the first time I had ever taken the time to look at a man's cock, and I was fascinated. I was puzzled by the snaky motion of the shaft and the way it bucked and lurched in my grip. The small opening at the tip entranced me as it seemed to "wink" at me. The long shaft was slick with pre-cum allowing my sweaty palm to glide up and down it's veiny surface. His hips moved forcefully with my tugging and I noticed the increased pressure applied to my tits. His tiny opening seemed to wink at me again, and I heard him growl, "Oh Gawd!"

I looked up just in time to avoid being blinded as a torrent of warm, creamy jism bathed my naked breasts with his fluid. I screamed, but only because I was startled. The milky, warm dew felt delicious on my chest as it cascaded down my abdomen and splattered on my chin and neck. I tried to wrestle control of this pulsing fire hose. But there was no stopping the flow of the hot, sticky cream. His hands had gone from my messy tits to the back of my neck, as his thrusting emptied the contents of those hairy balls. I could sense a subtle force at my neck, bending my gaping mouth towards his spurting tool. A last blast of his salty soup splashed on my lips and tongue. I instantly felt dirty like a cheap whore, but also a bit sexy and sultry. If this were not my son, I believe my legs would have spread wide.

"Oh my gosh, mom, I'm so sorry," he began. "I didn't mean to do that." His cock went suddenly limp and he nearly tripped over the sweat pants curled around his ankles. "I'm sorry, I tried to hold it. I don't know how that happened, it felt so good..." I heard him apologizing all the way down the hall as he skittered to his room and shut the door. His actions only masked my own embarrassment while I sat back on the couch covered in drying, flaky cum, while my own tremendous orgasm swelled in my vagina.

I was stunned at what happened, but emboldened that I would be left alone for a minute. My fingers took this time to work their accustomed magic on my clit and seemingly, with a mind of it's own, my tongue licked the drying remnants of his cum from my lips and fingers. This brazen masturbation on the livingroom sofa sent an erotic chill down my spine and curled my toes. I was lost in the steamy indulgence of pleasuring my hot snatch and wondering what more could have occurred.

If this was a sign of the new year to come, I was in for an adventure. My champagne-high subsided and I trudged to a warm shower, then into a cold bed. As I lay there restlessly, I kept replaying the entire thrilling, taboo affair and wondered, " why did he keep saying he was sorry? I thought it was exhilarating." My strong, good-looking son came on my tits. And I'm sure that he wanted his mom to give him a blowjob. And I was damned close to doing it. My body shook.

Well, that was five years ago. We both woke-up late the next day with vicious hangovers and contorted memories. No word was ever spoken about the incident and after a few slightly difficult days we returned to a relatively normal mother/son relationship. But my imagination bubbled over with dreams of that marvelous cock and the warm feeling in my pussy when I remembered that gooey sperm washing over my face and boobs.

About two years ago we attended an out of town wedding and after the terribly boozy reception, we checked into a small, crowded hotel at the last minute. Ofcourse we discovered that the only room left had just one bed. After a few uncomfortable but unspoken moments we made the best of things and clambered into the tiny bed. We kissed goodnight, snuggled briefly and separated, and finally each clung to the furthest edge of the bed and settled in for a restless evening. It was more than a little confusing.

In my nervousness, every time I felt him turn or heard the springs creak, I tensed-up. But then a far stranger, disappointing feeling crept over me when nothing happened. The lurid mixture of emotions caused a sheen of sweat to cover my torso, while flaming a burning flood in my anxious vagina. I found myself imagining incestuous sexual scenarios and wondering if he was tortured with the same taboo fantasies. The temperature under the sheets was heating up. My thin nightgown was clinging to my damp body and my hard nipples were sprouting. Every place my hands rested on my trembling body sent a sexual ripple to my moist snatch. I pressed my palm flat and steady against my enlarged clit and was able to bring some small relief from the anxiety, whimpering quietly to myself. I finally dozed-off to some bizarre incestuous nightmares of debauchery and woke-up shortly after, in a hot agitated state. My hazy mind was then drawn to a muffled drumming from behind me and a low, steady moaning. The still, quiet room seemed to amplify the wet, slapping sound and the bed was faintly vibrating.

I know this sensation well, having spent many torturous nights at this solemn activity. But I had never thought what this would sound like to another person in the room. So I hesitantly rolled on to my back to see if this could truly be happening. Jeff's enormous cock was the first thing I saw, a shaft of moonlight from the window appeared to spotlight it, standing proudly with his large right hand pumping it feverishly. His jaw was set and his eyes tightly shut, his naked body laying above the sheets glistened in the faint light, and he strained mightily at his task. I could see an open tube of Vaseline on the bedstand and I could hear the squishy noise as his meaty hand furiously flogged his greasy erection. He appeared to be at the bursting point and my mind was clouded. Involuntarily, I let out a shrill shriek and struggled to clear my brain, while scrambling to the edge of my side of the bed.

When he was alerted to my surprised reaction, he bolted upright and attempted to shield his amazing cock with his hands and sheepishly tried to turn away from my prying eyes. I tried to diffuse a very tense situation but found myself in an obvious lack of the appropriate words. "Honey are you allright, I mean can I do anything for you..." I began to stumble. "Do you um, want me to leave you alone...or maybe to get you something." I was totally bewildered. My dreams had never evolved quite like this.

"Mom please," he started. "You know what I'm doing." He groaned agonizingly as a spurt of white, syrupy liquid escaped his cupped hands and splattered like rain on the already damp sheets. "You know what this is about...how am I supposed to stop it?..I've tried to control how I feel...but here you are, laying beside me practically naked, and moaning in your sleep. What do you expect? You're just teasing me to death."

I was stunned at his conclusions, but erotically aroused by his passion and the fact that he was whacking-off (pardon) to the ideal of his mother. I saw the gooey trickle of milky sperm, oozing between his fingers and pooling in his dark crotch, and his long, thick rod slowly contracting like a coiling snake. I had become a sexual obsession and forbidden fantasy for my son. Possibly every night, he would lay awake in bed tugging at that marvelous, thick piece of meat, recreating that exciting holiday night and maybe dreaming about fucking me. I must admit that I have struggled with the same type of raw, incestuous emotions. Having held that fabulous cock in my hands, and having felt the warmth of his cum coating my yearning breasts, my hand has played over my aching clit like a Steinway Piano. I hate that he thinks I have been trying to "tease" him, but I secretly love the idea that he wants my body.

Here in a strange bed, far away from prying eyes, with his naked, sweaty torso so close to me I could bring both of our illicit fantasies to life, if I only have the courage. I realize that I have already caused him embarrassment and humiliation, as his mother has caught him with his cock in his hand. Maybe I in some manner, ease the tension in the room. The situation was perplexing, and it was time to act like a mom, but not be the mom. A mom would have said some schmaltzy thing or ducked out of the room, but the mom he was looking for would be listening to that inner "she-devil" and really make him feel better.

"That mom" couldn't take her eyes from that sticky, lean tool that he still gripped tightly with his shiny, wet fingers. "Honey," I stuttered, "it's only natural that a son thinks about his mother in this way. And considering the circumstances, you cannot be faulted." I was trying to console him but the sexual tension was also wearing me down, and out of the corner of my eye, I could always see that delicious-looking cock. I continued, "that other thing you're doing is just a natural part of life, we all do it, (whoops.) I shouldn't have interrupted, I mean I'll leave the room, er...should I do something." I was totally flustered, my inane rationalization sounded childish and fraudulent. At the same instant I was reflexively reaching for his cum-soaked hands and gently cuddling his shriveled, tacky cock in my shaking palm. "Please honey, let me help you, I should never have interfered with this. I'll try to make it up to you." I can't imagine what I was thinking, but my body and inner-devil were taking control. I laid my head on his smooth, firm abdomen and shielding my eyes from his inquisitive stare, proceeded to trace slow, wet kisses from his navel down to the wiry thatch of sticky curls at the base of his cock. I noticed the instant arousal of his snake, and the musky aroma of cum and warm bodies mingling so close to my nose.

"Mom, you do like my cock," I heard him mumble to himself. "Wow, I thought you really enjoyed that, from before. I wanted to say something since then, but I didn't know what...or how. I love your tits, and the look you had when you jerked me off." He sounded so relieved and happy. It wasn't exactly music to my ears, but now I knew that we could both be free to enjoy ourselves.

I gently cradled his limp but rapidly expanding pole of flesh into my trembling hands, just as I had done more professionally in my dreams. The viscous sheen along the shaft allowed my palm to smoothly glide up and down it's length, as it gradually extended to it's full, amazing proportions. I glanced quickly at him for a sign of approval and to continue. His face was hidden in the still deep shadows, but his blue eyes shone bright as a beacon and his rough fists clung tight to the crumpled sheets. "Let mom take care of this," I purred in my best sultry, slutty voice. The wiry pubic hair tickled my tongue and I felt a familiar, soft pressure being applied to the nape of my neck. He moaned to me, "Suck it mom, suck my cock into your sexy mouth." I was floored. Incest be damned, we both wanted this.

Slowly, I was being drawn towards this greatly enlarging cock. The hand on my neck was not-so-subtly guiding my slobbering mouth to the helmet-like head of his firm organ. I parted my lips wide, the dimensions of this young man's cock were staggering. I licked my lips and swallowed to clear my throat, then I shut my eyes and held his rigid pole steady while I carefully lowered my gaping mouth over the top couple of inches. I really needed no encouragement, because I was so incredibly turned-on at this moment, but I felt his fingers through my scalp and the strong hand easing my wary head further onto his slick cock. "Take it, Mom. Suck my cock, it feels so great and I'm so glad you want it too." I'm not sure when he formed such a definitive opinion; but with his big penis sliding down my throat, his strong hand bobbing my head up and down like a yo-yo, and my saliva pouring over his cock to the sexy sounds of my moans, I was truly in no position to argue. I was sucking my son's cock, and he and I were enjoying the taboo sensation. My jaw relaxed to the point that I could allow for deeper penetration and my mind relaxed to where the idea of incest no longer troubled me. I stroked his slippery pole with gusto, and slurped and sucked like a cheap whore. It was wonderful. "Mom, you feel terrific, lick my balls too." He was secure enough to issue instructions now. And there was something even more stimulating about being told to follow his directions. My pussy was heating up.I began to lick my way from his tight balls up the firm, pink shaft. The veiny blue contour of his rigid pole brought a deeply forbidden but terribly erotic pleasure to my tingling vagina. My long, flat tongue wound it's way around his girth like a snake climbing a tree. Along the exposed veins, I would close my eyes and let my tongue explore, sensing the various contours of his hot penis. The fleshy texture of the thickened cap felt so exotically sinful that the saliva gushed from my lips and I felt my steamy vagina about to explode. I grasped the base of his cock with amazement, it was as thick around as my arm, my fingers barely touched. Four or five inches of pulsing flesh stood-out above my closed hand. The speed of my hand pumping his rod increased and the force of my suction on the huge tip multiplied, I wanted to taste my son's semen.

My mind was racing. I wanted to cum along with him. What a crazy sensation it would be, to feel my own tremendous orgasm at the very second that his salty fluid splashed against my tonsils. My other hand now pulled my thin panties to the side and two fingers raced to rub my clit, intune with the impending flood I expected. I wanted him, badly. "Mom, will you take your top off again, I really love those sweet tits." His hand was now pressing hard on my neck and his hips were bucking off the bed to drive his big tool into my mouth. I was too distracted with the thought of his creamy sperm to worry about anything else.

"Do whatever you want," I vaguely heard my voice say. I didn't want his cock out of my mouth for a second. My thoughts were now centered on that forbidden fruit. I loved the way it expanded in my throat, filling my entire mouth and puffing-out my cheeks. I needed to slip it out momentarily just to breathe. I felt the silky material of my nightgown being torn from my body, as his eager hand stripped me and began to tug at my tits and twist the small, pink nipples. He then surprised me by easily gripping my hips and pulling my leg over his face, positioning my pussy for his hungry tongue. He was going to move my fingers aside and perform cunnilingus on me. When I felt his pointed tongue dart into my hot box I lost it. I shook wildly and convulsed like I had been electrocuted. My orgasm gushed out of me like a geyser and would not stop. I had never experienced multiple orgasms before, but it seemed like I was peeing. Just as I regained some composure, I felt his powerful hand locking my lips tightly around his throbbing erection. Then it happened! He flooded my mouth with his creamy, salty cum. I tried to swallow and breathe at the same moment, but nearly choked from the torrent of fluid. The throbbing erection flopped out my mouth. His pole was directly under my chin and I could hardly control it. It rained a white, syrupy mess on my face and neck. I opened my mouth to catch what I could, but a deluge of liquid painted my red face and chest. Soupy strands of cum hung like moss from my nose and nipples. When I turned to look at my son, he first sheepishly grinned, then burst-out laughing. I could not do otherwise. I was reduced to licking the quickly drying semen from my body and playfully rubbing the remainder into Jeff's face. We laughed together and knew that this would not be our last taboo tryst.

He playfully painted my butt with cum while he generously licked my horny twat. And like a mom, my tongue made short work of the sticky film on both of our bodies, paying particular, rapt attention to that fleshy joy-stick that made this all possible. Once or twice his stubby fingers found their way into my back passage, and though I hopped with surprise, I found the sudden intrusion exciting and wriggled my tight ass down on his fingers. He complemented that procedure by thoroughly tonguing my melting vagina, so I couldn't complain. He appeared to know his way around a pussy, certainly mine.

After it all subsided, the dawn was rising and I contemplated what we had just done. I disregarded the taboo thought of incest because we both enjoyed it, and the naughty nature of the act really made it that much more exciting. What an erotic thrill to have your son's sweet cock in your mouth. And at the same time, his plump tongue is exploring your every intimate fold and bringing-out the greatest orgasm you have ever experienced. It was thrilling. I lost myself in the sensual mood, and have no regrets, since I can readily see that Jeff likes it too.

As I snuggled into his damp crotch, I gave him a reassuring smile and planted delicate, soft kisses along the entire length of that wonderful cock. He tenderly patted and spanked my still quivering backside, and his snaky tongue continued to spark my clit and ass. I curled-up in this "69" position with my face resting in his sticky, itchy pubic patch and closed my eyes. "Mom, er Jaime, Suck me off again." I had that warm, sexy feeling about pleasuring a domineering partner. I feel like I want to be "ordered" to perform. As I lay between his hairy legs, I obediently lick and fondle his twitching cock. He points out to me what he wants and how I should respond, my submissiveness excites us both. He is learning that I melt under his firm command.

Our passion began to ebb and his breathing became slow and even. My eyes grew heavy as the sun peeked through the curtains. Soon, we drifted off to a refreshing sleep, head to toe on the damp, rumpled sheets. In the morning we woke to an awkward situation, but quickly got past it. Together we jumped into a hot shower where again I was commanded to my knees, with his strong hands firmly holding my ears, and his pelvis thrusting his erect, fully recharged cock forcefully into my slutty mouth. "Take it Jaime, now I know you love it. You're going to be spending a lot of time with my dick in your mouth. I want lots of blowjobs, and you're going to be on a heavy cum diet."

I swallowed it all this time, reveling in his domineering tone. He ordered me to rub my pussy while I sucked him, and I willingly obliged. He said I would learn to associate my orgasms with the taste of his cum, I was enchanted. My pussy vibrated the tub as my orgasm came on, I wilted at his feet, the warm, soapy water washing over me. Each time it happened, my orgasms were stronger and longer-lasting, I loved it. Then he sweetly lifted me to my feet and softly nibbled and kissed my pert breasts. "Those tits are mine, now. Don't forget that. You're my sex-slut now, and I intend to have you whenever I want," I simply nodded in acceptance. Not really knowing what to answer, but not disputing what he said. We toweled each other off, and exchanged a few more exploratory embraces. We were quickly getting used to each other's touch, and to our position in this relationship.

The roadtrip home featured some comical teenage groping. I took the initiative and unzipped his pants and casually stroked him to a magnificent erection. And then as well as I could, considering my forty years and the prospect of wedging my head under the steering wheel without killing us both, I licked and sucked his engorged rod, now familiar with the slightly acidic taste of his milky seed. He compelled me to remove my shirt and bra. So that I rode more than one hundred and fifty miles of interstate, flashing every trucker in the tri-state. He loved to drive with his left hand on the wheel, and his right hand twisting my nipples and squeezing my boobs. I held his firm cock in my hand and we both laughed for most of the ride home.

When we arrived at home, I was neither surprised nor ashamed that he followed me up the stairs and into my bedroom. At every step I felt the push of his hips against my backside, and his aggressive hands were already reaching around me from behind, and tugging my shirt over my tussled hair. My bra was back in the car, so when we hit the bed I was topless. He quickly yanked down my jeans, leaving the pile of denim tangled in my boots, and practically shackling my legs. I felt his thumbs under the sheer material of my panties and shifted my hips to allow him to wiggle them onto the folds of clothing at my ankles. But he was in more of a hurry, so the ripping sound of my undies shocked me, but was exciting to feel and hear.

He pushed me forward onto the side of the bed, and I felt the full weight of his sexy, sweaty, torso on my bare back as he eased a pillow under my belly. Anticipating his first-ever plunge into my starving pussy, I was torn between sexual thrill and child-molestation. But I pulled my long hair to one side so that I could peer over my shoulder, and I scooted on to my knees to permit him easier access to my flaming cunt. I knew what was about to happen, and I not only looked forward to it, now I was ready to assist it in any way that I could.

His huge cock was sturdy but a little dry, but my steaming twat was soaked with anticipation. My hips widened so that he could slip-in behind my ass, and I sensed his battering ram at the entrance to my hot vagina. I purred with delight as I felt his rough hands reach under me and grab two big handfuls of my pouty tits. His approach to my cunt was not very subtle, the massive pole drove-in deep, burying it up to his balls and the non-stop pounding of this fleshy sledge began. "Mom, er Jaime, I'm going to rape that honey-hole of yours. I want to fuck you all day long and dump my cum in to your hot snatch,"

It wasn't exactly poetry, but the crude language and brutal force enflamed my passion. I arched my back, screamed a lot, and answered in the same lewd terms, " Fuck me Jeff, take my pussy, it's yours. I want you, I want you to fuck me, I want to be your slave." I didn't know all that I was saying. " I'm yours. You own me. Take me, fuck me, make me your sex-bitch. I want it," my screams and moans filled the room, joining his grunts and further crude epithets. The big cock slid in and out of me with a ruthless precision, I could occasionally see the gigantic mushroomed head as he withdrew completely, and I marveled at how that humongous instrument with it's smooth, shiny head could fit so easily into my tight pussy, and bring me so much pleasure. He rocked me hard and fast, under his breath I could hear him call me a bitch and a slut. With each nasty word, he pumped that strong pole forcefully into my wanton cunt. He said I was his whore now and that he would use my slut-body at any time and in any way he pleased, at that, his stubby fingers stole into my most private cavity again and I could only yelp with delight. He said he would rape me at his pleasure, and that I should expect to spend many hours with his big cock in my mouth, swallowing his cum and keeping him hard. I made no other reply than to moan deeply and squeeze my thighs around his piston-like tool.

He emphasized, "that in public you will always be my mom, and I will be your dutiful son. But at home, or wherever we are in private, your slutty cunt belongs to me. You won't wear underwear in the house anymore, and when I tell you to strip, you will. And when I snap my fingers, you will strip off your shirt, show me your tits, and drop to your knees for a blowjob." How sexually degrading...and I reveled in it!

I was stunned and shocked. I never expected this type of tone or demanding control, but I didn't say a word, and secretly-it turned me on to the nth degree. I found my sexual self in that bed, with my son's cock deeply embedded in my hot snatch. His big penis continued to thrust firmly and easily inside me, and the convulsions I felt in my loins were overwhelming. My orgasms at being incestuously raped were like nothing I could have ever imagined. It was the strongest and sweetest of my life and I wanted more of them. And obviously I had found a way.

We remained in my big bed for the remainder of the evening, clumsily getting used to be naked together and determing what would now be appropriate behavior. I was finally able to remove the rest of my clothes and be free. When he finally rolled off of me, after the slow trickle of his tremendous load finished oozing down my thighs, I trembled on the bed for what seemed like hours. My boobs were red from his strong hands and my nipples too sore and raw to touch. My pussy felt like it had opened for the Rose Bowl Parade, and I think I experienced lock-jaw from all the blowjobs. I must have swallowed a gallon of cum and even more coated my tired body and puddled in my crotch. In a few minutes we recovered enough to actually crawl under the covers and fall into a long-needed restful nights sleep. We awoke cuddling under the sheets with his giant cock again nestled snuggly between my thighs, the limp tip of it tickling my sensitive clit. I enjoy the submissive position of him behind me with his big hands cupping my boobs, and our legs intertwined. He had said previously what was to be expected of a "good sex-slave" so I crawled to his pelvis and softly began to lick his lifeless cock to arousal and then take it in my welcoming mouth. I was also informed that he would be "sharing" my bed from now on, and that this would be the start of my new morning routine, coffee would have to wait.

He recently was bold enough to demand that I shave all of my pubic hair and then use fragrant oils on my suddenly bald triangle, so that the area is smooth and soft to his touch. I protested briefly, afterall I'm a forty year-old woman who has had curly, blonde hairs on my vagina for about thirty years. I tried to reason with him by saying that if he wanted to have sex with a MILF, why would he want me to look like a child? He only laughed as he put me across his lap, tugged down my shorts, and paddled, then fingered my rear end. As I squirmed under his penalty mix of pleasure and pain, I noticed his bulging cock poking me in the belly, soon after my spanking, I was on my knees with cock in mouth. Fortunately, I have developed a passion to provide sexy, fantastic blowjobs. And also, I have been forced to acquire a taste for cum. It makes things easier that I can swallow his cum instead of gagging or choking, or having him spurt on my face, (that's disgusting.)

The other day when I came home from shopping, he was waiting to help me put away the groceries. He even offered to set the dinner table, and start the washing so that I could shower and change. I thanked him and kissed him sweetly, then headed for our room. After the shower, I was heading down the hall, wrapped in a plush towel, when I heard noises from the spare room that used to be his bedroom. To my shock and amazement, I saw the room now lit by a flashing strobe and stout, leather straps dangling from the four corners of the big bed. Jeff was seated on the bed, clad only in shorts which did nothing to conceal his mammoth hard-on, and was snapping what I came to understand, was an old-style whip called a cat-o'-nine-tails. Before I could speak, I literally could not speak-he had fastened a harness with a ball-gag in my mouth. It took only a second with me struggling fiercely against this young, strong man to find my warm, wet body held securely to the bed and him smiling devilishly and rubbing a scented lube into my anus. I had been expecting this situation, but nothing quite like this. I resigned myself to the event, as his fingers had prepared me for weeks to the inevitable. When I felt his first hand tug at my ponytail, and the other reach under my quivering torso and firmly grab my tit, I knew it was about to happen. My son had bound and gagged me, and was in the process of raping me anally. I could only hope that the lube was sufficient, and that the enormous, helmeted head of his solid penis would be gentle to me, as he drove it deep into my ass.

The first moment of trepidation passed, and once I heard him grunt into my ear, "here's what you've been wishing for, mom. I'm going to fuck that tight little ass." The erotic thrill took me by surprise. After getting used to the intense pressure, I noticed that he paused for a second. I let-out a muffled squeak, and then through the gag, with slobber running down my chin, I mumbled a soft "okay." He plowed into my virginal ass with no more stopping, and the excitement from my imagination matched the powerful feeling of being helpless and fulfilled all at once. He couldn't last long and my butt was lucky to escape the first go-round with minimal discomfort, and then I felt the warm, sticky goo, flowing out of me as he pulled his cock from my puckered ass.

When he released the ball-gag, a flood of pent-up saliva poured from my mouth and I was just about to say "thanks" when he thrust his sticky, reddened cock in my face and demanded I suck him. "Honey," I said, with my head shaking nervously side-to-side. And my wet blonde ponytail whipping against my cheeks. "I can't. I want to... you know that, I love your cock, but you just fucked my ass, and there is still lube on your cock." He didn't say a word, he didn't have to. I know my place. He propped a hand under my chin, pressed his tool between my drooling lips, and my mouth opened obligingly wide. His big cock slid easily into my mouth and I began to suck greedily. With just a few carefully applied strokes from the whip, I leapt hungrily into action. Having that hard, slick cock in my throat always sparks a little heat in my belly. And the warm, rich fluid begins to flow in my vagina.

My slovenly body had been well-conditioned over the previous weeks to begin to flutter at the sexy touch of his cock at the back of my throat. I felt my orgasm mounting from deep inside me as my tongue played over that hard cock. The more he pushed, the greater the wave of ecstasy bubbling in my loins. I was still tied in place and my neck was sore from straining to suck his pole into my mouth, but I only felt the tidal wave of emotion about to burst from my torrid vagina. It was a flood of pleasure and relief, and I loved every second of it. My worn body collapsed on the bed, still restrained from wrists and ankles. My head lay lifeless in a puddle of slobber and sperm, in his wiry pubic area. And his limp, shriveled penis with it's single lidless eye, stared out at me-a single droplet of cum at it's tip. Jeff brushed my hair with his fingers and kissed me gently, he said, "every Saturday afternoon, we're going to try something wild." I was just bound and gagged, had my ass fucked and sucked my son's sloppy cock, what wilder things could happen? Still, I was looking forward to whatever he came up with.

Most days now, he just casually reaches under my loose tops and squeezes my boobs. My underwear has been confiscated- I need to ask his permission if I wish to wear a foundation before I leave the house. I rarely pass by him that his fingers don't worm their way inside my pants, and he often has me sit on his lap while we watch television, so that he can fuck me cowgirl-style and fondle my bare chest. And any time is good for him to snap his fingers; the signal for me to strip off my top, drop to my knees, diddle my pussy, and take him in my mouth. My daily count of motherly blowjobs is in the teens, including at night before sleep, and in the morning before breakfast.

I have concluded that I control my own orgasms, but that I need him to help to make the act complete. I am constantly excited about the new Saturday Game Day. And occasionally at the point of walking out the door for something he pulls me back, rips off my clothes and presses me to my knees. I then suck him until he shoots all over me, then he'll say "you can either leave now, looking like a two-dollar hooker, or get in the bedroom and spread your legs, and beg me to fuck you." I love it. I cum uncontrollably. I can't believe the naughty thrill I get from slave-sex with my son. He calls me every vile, lewd name. And tells me sometimes, to "fuck me like the slutty whore that you are. Or on your knees like a bitch and put a shine on my cock." And even, "give me that ass, I'm going to bang you like a cheap cunt." I can't imagine why that talk makes me squirm, but I love it when he belittles me. This is the best sex I have ever dreamed of, and I never dreamed anything like it!

It has become a wonderful, transformative affair. The illicit incestuous nature of the sex, makes it exciting and forbidden. The cheap thrill I get from having my body used for someone's sexual satisfaction, is difficult to explain but since it's my son, and I get to experience it with him, it gives me great pleasure. I only wish I could tell someone about the tremendous sex-life I have discovered in my early forties. But I haven't quite figured-out that part.

It would be hard to explain to my tennis crowd that doesn't even mention sex in "polite" company, that my pussy begins to moisten, and my heart pounds in my chest when I see that evil leer cross Jeff's face. My temperature begins to rise and my pulse quickens, as his glance turns my way. Hearing your son call you "back alley" names and demanding that you degrade and abase yourself, for his taboo impulses should not be the cause of such heightened sexual arousal, but I cannot deny him and it truly gets me off.

He can walk into any room in the house to find me, and grab a hefty chunk of my round bottom. I begin to shiver at the idea of what is on today's routine. "Jaime," he'll order, (he now only calls me mom on social occasions, or if he wants to emphasize his power over me, with his big cock in my ass.) "Strip for me, I want to play with those nice tits while you suck me." I can't fight the feeling, I enjoy it too much. I start to slowly unbutton my blouse, and turn my back to him seductively. He thunders at me, "I didn't say tease me, I want you naked and your hot lips wrapped around my pole. My cock is looking positively dull and I want you to put a shine on it. Get me hard, get me wet, and bend your ass over that chair. I'm gonna rape you."

I kick my slippers aside, throw my clothes in a heap, and toss a small rug under my knees as I cup his full balls and practice this intense fellatio on my Master's lovely organ. "Faster," he demands as I warm to the act. "Deeper, and stroke my shaft! Play with your pussy, slut. Rub it, stick your fingers inside that hot gash, and lick the cum off. I want you ready when I bang your dirty cunt." I pump him furiously, my saliva spilling down the shaft of his long, rigid cock. At the same time, my fingers poke swiftly inside my own steaming snatch. My cheeks work like a bellows as I eagerly and forcefully suck him to full extension. My middle fingers plunge inside my gaping pussy while my thumb roughly grates my delicate clit. I am at the brink of my orgasm, my legs beginning to tremble and the muscles of my abdomen twitching. I feel his heavy ball sac begin to lurch and I know the vibration I feel in his shaft means that the explosion is imminent.

He yanks me violently to my bare feet, and pushes me, face forward over the arm of a wide, plush chair. My face is squashed into the deep cushions with my hair obstructing my view, but my ass is exposed and he pries my cheeks apart with strong hands. I sense that slippery cock working it's way into my back passage, and the massive orgasm began to rumble in my vagina. I shook all over, my hips bucked with electricity, and my muffled moans filled the room. His hawk-like fists gripped my waist, and I heard his wet balls smacking against my tender cunt as his sledge rammed up to the hilt inside my hungry pussy. With one final, giant thrust I heard him roar a succession of crude names and felt the torrent of his hot, creamy seed fill my insides.

"Who owns this hot little ass?" he triumphantly bellows to me.

"You do Master," I obediently reply with enthusiasm. "You own my ass. You own my tight, hot pussy. And you own me completely. I belong to you, and I love that feeling." I reached between my legs and spread the swollen folds of my vagina to invite his easy, continual access. "My pussy belongs to you, Master. I'll suck you and fuck you whenever you want me. I'm yours to command, I need you to make me whole." I twist my neck and struggle to see his face. He leers at me with a snickering delight and my frail torso tingles. He smiles widely.

He yanked my hair back, arching my back and at the same instant called me "a dirty whore and a filthy slut." Then he withdrew his still-solid cock from my quivering butt, and plowed straight into my tempting pussy. His thrusts were rough and fast, finishing with a loud burst of sperm to fill my desperate cavern. His sweat-soaked torso landed heavily on my back, and our bodies tensed-up, shook like at an earthquake and then settled into a sweaty, sticky, tired jumble. With a playful swipe, he spanked my moist butt, making a lewd smacking noise. We both quietly moaned, "that was great." at the same time, and we headed off to separate warm showers. Rarely do I get to shower alone these days, but as I slather warm soapy water on my sore, frazzled body, I reflect on my situation.

The submissive feeling of being dominated only serves to make my orgasm stronger, and where I had gone years without sex, I now get it daily, almost hourly. And in ways and with devises I had not imagined. He helps to bring my sexuality to the surface, but I have control over my role in the action, and I enjoy every strange, unexpected moment. I know this relation is taboo, and is never to be talked about outside, but for now it is terrific. It will certainly lose it's appeal, but for me this summer of passion and unconventional sexual awakening has been entirely worth it with no regrets.

The end.