Incest A mom inadvertently falls in love with her son.

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I clicked on my movie files and selected Making Mommy Mine. As I slowly teased my pussy, wanting this orgasm to build slowly, I watched the action in the video:
"Mom, come in here," the son bellowed from his bedroom...butt-naked and completely hard.
The mother came in and froze when she saw her son naked. "Bruce, what are you doing?"
"Giving you what you want," he answered.
"Excuse me?" The mom asked, even as she kept taking glimpses of her son's hard cock.
"I've been on your computer," he revealed. "I have checked your browser history."
"Bruce, that is my private computer," she said, even as her cheeks went redder...even as she continued to glance down at his cock.
"Do you want to be my Mommy-slut or not?" He asked, bluntly, as he began stroking his cock.
"Bruce, please," she protested weakly (her acting was not why she was hired, obviously).
"Please, what, Mommy-slut?" he smirked.
"Bruce, I'm your Mother!" she said, pointing out the obvious.
"Yes, that is why I called you Mommy-slut and not just slut," he responded smugly.
"Bruce," she began, but was cut off.
"Knees, Mother," he ordered.
Just the thought of hearing those words from Paul sent a chill up my back.
She stared at him for a moment, obviously for dramatic effect, before she reluctantly lowered herself to the floor.
"Good, Mommy-slut," he purred. "Crawl to me."
Again there was a brief moment of hesitation, before she wordlessly obeyed the order and began crawling to her well-endowed son.
"Do you know what day it is, Mommy-slut?" He asked, looking down at her once she reached him.
"No," she whispered, clearly ashamed of what was transpiring even though it was her fantasy.
"It's National Nude Day," he revealed.
"Oh," she said, staring at his cock, which was now directly in front of her face.
"So, shouldn't you be naked?" He asked.
"You want to see me naked?" She asked, seemingly surprised, which was odd considering he was already naked and she was already on her knees.
"It's Nude Day," he said, "of course I expect you nude."
She remained on all fours, clearly unsure what to do next.
"Stand up," he ordered.
She obeyed.
"Strip for me," he instructed.
Hands trembling, just like mine were as I watched the incestuous act, she unbuttoned her blouse. Once undone, she hesitated.
He reached over and helped her take off her blouse. Now in her bra, which held in a pair of large fake tits, he ordered, "Bra, too."
Again there was a brief hesitation as she stared into his eyes, before she moved her hands behind her back, unclasped her bra and let it fall to the ground, revealing her perfectly sculpted breasts.

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So, I promised you a story," I began.

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So, I promised you a story," I began.

You have me curious," he said, "I can't fathom you being wild."
I pouted, "Why, because I'm a boring wet rag?"
"No, it's just you're my mom," he answered, which wasn't really an answer.
"Well trust me, your mother is a lot more than meets the eye," I smiled, the innuendo implied not likely obvious to Paul.
"Okay," Paul nodded, clearly unsure where this was going.
"So I was dating Wally when I met your dad," I began, remembering how crazy that night was. I wasn't necessarily a slut back in high college and college, but I also wasn't a prude. I liked sucking cock, I liked getting fucked, I liked being wanted. Yet, I didn't sleep around when dating someone, I just didn't date someone for a long time.

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४


You cheated on someone to hook up with dad?" he asked, a look of shock on his face...his sweet mother a cheater.

"Not really," I answered, before adding, "but it wasn't a normal situation either."

"You have me confused," he said.

"Let me tell the whole story and it will make sense," I promised, as I realized I had never told anyone the complete story of how I met my husband (although it is a lot simpler than How I Met Your Mother).

"Sorry, you just have me curious," he said, "you seldom mention Dad."

"I don't?" I asked, realizing I suppose that was true.

"Not really," he nodded.

"Well, I will change that," I said, "for starters, you and your dad are a lot alike."

"We are?" he asked.

"Oh, God yes," I smiled, putting my hand on his leg subtly. "You have the same eyes, same smile, same laugh, same voice and, truth be told, the same body."

"Really?" he asked.

"Take off your glasses," I suggested, as I pulled out my phone. Once he did, I snapped a photo and stood up and grabbed a frame with a photo of Darren a few months before he passed and brought it back to the couch. I said, showing him the two photos, "Twins."

He laughed, "I think you need glasses."

"Oh honey," I said sweetly, "you're too hard on yourself, you're a very good looking young man and like your dad, you will be well sought after in college."

"Unlikely," he replied.

"Trust me, in college girls are looking for more than just the football quarterback."

"If you say so," he said, not really believing me.

"Maybe the story of your father and I will give you some confidence," I suggested, before continuing, "So it was a Halloween party and, being college, that meant it was dress like a slut and get away with it night. So to tease the crap out of Wally, who had a thing for superheroes, I dressed in a very skimpy Batgirl outfit, my identity partially hidden by the mask. Now Wally was a bit of a computer dork, back when computers were really a career opportunity. The party we went to was full of who today's youth would call nerds and geeks. I was having my own self-image crisis, sick of dating really good looking, buff, jocks who treated me like crap...thus I began dating a nice guy...Wally."

Paul joked, "That sure doesn't happen at my high college."

"College honey, everything changes in college," I smiled, again squeezing his leg tenderly. "Anyways, after a fair amount of wine and some scotch, which always lowers my inhibitions, Wally and I ended up having a quickie in the bathroom."

Paul gasped, "Mom!"

"Honey, you are eighteen and old enough to have such a conversation. Your father would have had the sex talk a couple of years ago with you if he was alive."

"I have the internet," he pointed out.

"I'm sure you do," I said, teasingly, making him blush. "Anyways, it may have been my inebriated state, it may have been the fact that Wally got off but I didn't, or it could have been how cute your father looked in his Batman suit, but I walked over to him and said."

I paused, wanting to see if Paul was listening.

"What did you say?" he asked excitedly.

"Before I continue," I said, "will you do me a favour?"

"Sure," Paul nodded.

"My feet are killing me," I said, "I wore four inch heels all day."

"That is crazy," he said.

"I know," I smiled, "the things we do to look good for men."

He asked, suddenly looking jealous, I thought, "Who were you wearing heels for?"

"No one particular," I shrugged. After a moment, I asked, "Will you massage my feet for me, honey?"

His eyes went big with a look of excitement as I repositioned myself to put my stocking-clad feet on his lap.

He tried to regain his composure as he said, "Sure, Mom," then began massaging my right foot.

"That feels so nice," I said softly, partly to tease him, but also because it was true.

"So what did you say to Dad?" Paul asked, as he stared at my feet and legs.

"You may never see your old Mother the same," I warned.

"I'll always see you as my Mother," he said.

That deflated me briefly, as I hoped he would see me as a lot more than his mother tomorrow, so I said, "I hope you can see me as more than just your Mother."

"What do you mean?" Paul asked, confused.

"Oh nothing," I sighed. "It's just that, well, sometimes I feel so old."

"Mom, you're forty, that is not even mid-life yet," he comforted me.

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me.
"I know, I know," I replied, "it just seems that I have shrivelled up inside."
"You should be dating," he suggested.
I sighed, "I just can't find anyone who is remotely as good for me as your father was." I then added the innuendo with what I had planned for tomorrow, "plus, I already have the perfect man in the house." After a lengthy silence as I allowed my words to marinate in Paul's mind, I continued, "So I walked up to your dad-to-be and asked him 'Does Batman want to fuck Batgirl?'"
"Mom!" he gasped, although he continued massaging my foot.
"I told you I would surprise you," I said, before asking, "Can you do my other foot, too?"
He switched feet as I continued, "I didn't even wait for an answer before I grabbed his hand and led him back to the room I had just been in." I paused, Paul's face of shock telling me he wasn't ready for such detailed information about his mother's sex life. I stammered, suddenly feeling guilty, "I-I-I'm s-s-sorry Paul, I have said too much."
I quickly stood up, even though I was really enjoying the foot massage.
He stood up to and said, "It's okay, Mom."
I smiled, "I'm sorry, it's just I don't have anyone to talk to about your dad."
"I understand," he said sincerely and pulled me into a hug.
As our bodies crashed together, I felt his very stiff cock poking at my leg. I briefly pondered just dropping to my knees, pulling out his cock and devouring it whole, yet I was no longer sure he wanted to have sex with me. Although he was definitely hard, and he practically drooled over my legs and massaging my feet, his verbal response of shock to my story conflicted with the physical evidence.
Breaking the hug, I looked up at him, Paul was over six feet tall like his father, and said, "I love you, son."
"I love you too, Mom," he smiled back.
Deciding to take one more risk before the evening was over, I leaned forward and briefly kissed him on the lips, then said, "I'm going to go and take a bath."
"Okay," he said, looking bewildered, I sensed, with conflicting feelings towards his mother.
In the bath, I hoped I had left enough hints, created enough intrigue and stirred enough sexual lust that tomorrow my plan would come to fruition. I had doubts, more than I had before the conversation, but the more I thought about it, the more I believed he wanted to fuck me as much as I wanted to fuck him. I just had to give him the ultimate, no doubt about it, green light, and that I would do tomorrow.
After my bath, which included a very lengthy intimate encounter with my shower head, I spent a couple hours in my room watching television and trying not to overthink what had just transpired or worry about tomorrow. At bedtime, I knocked on Paul's door and after being allowed in asked, "What are you doing tomorrow?"
"I have no plans," he answered, already in bed, under the sheets, his cheeks red.
"Excellent," I said, "tomorrow, you're all mine."
"Okay," he said, looking at me strangely.
"Trust me," I smiled. Walking over to his bed, I leaned in and kissed him on the lips again, this time lingering just a millisecond longer, making sure my breasts were directly in his point of view, "I have a very full day ahead for you."
"W-w-what do you have planned?" he stammered.
"Oh, that's a surprise," I smiled, glancing towards his crotch area every so slyly, before standing up and heading towards the door.
At the door, I turned and asked, "Did you know tomorrow is National Nude Day?"
"I didn't know such a day existed," he said.
"Now you do," I shrugged and left him to finish what I likely interrupted.
I went to bed excited and nervous about tomorrow...but I decided that the seeds were planted and all I had to do now was let it grow.
.....
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