Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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All characters in this story are over the age of eighteen and completely fictitious. Enjoy!
It was a rare occasion that Tammy brought out the toys before bedtime, before she was done reading her favourite kind of stories, but she could no longer hold back, what with the colourful mental pictures and heart-wrenching passion of the new offerings she had stumbled upon. Now she sat deep in her chair, reading from her iPad with one hand while in the other her silver bullet buzzed strongly against her most precious spot through her damp panties, and over the course of an hour as she stealthily released blissful climax after climax, she wrestled with the temptation to reach for something bigger, and lost!
Her son was only in the next room. And how thin were the walls really? As Tammy breathed raggedly, flicking the stray blonde locks away from her heavy-lidded eyes, she bit her lower lip hard before giving in and yanking the crotch of her pink panties to one side, daring to sample the warm waters with eager fingers, the palm of that hand rested on the prominent hood of her clit just below her dark trimmed bush, and muffling a sigh as she did.
Not only did her puffy pink cunt beg to be fucked deep, but so did her heart, and so did her mind, like a tantric geyser building pressure, steaming and spraying and fit to burst.
She tried to make do with what she had to hand, but it just wasn’t going to be enough and she knew it. So Tammy reached into the bedside drawer beside her reading chair and went straight for the 8″ lifelike vibrating jelly dildo, the one with the magical little clit stimulator at its base, and set it to a low purring speed. There was no need for foreplay anymore. Tammy needed to be filled, and she needed to mould herself around the imaginary cock of her lover, to yield to it and to make warm, salty puddles around it.
Still refusing to make any more noise than a steadying breath, or a low moan of approval as she fed the long, flexible toy to her feverish depths, Tammy listened carefully, just in case she might unwittingly find herself in a compromising position and with no escape or excuse.
Fuck! That deep vibration, that buzzing current of arousal shooting from her clit and deep into her abdomen, and in another life, another world, her fictional son was locked body to body and riding her to a most delicious plateau of forbidden orgasmic bliss while her fictional self encouraged him with such recklessly filthy words…
“Oh my God, I feel like I’m giving birth to you all over again,” Tamara groaned, her eyes locked intently on her sons as he drove deep toward her womb. “You’re going to split me in half!”
She stifled a squeal just as it dared escape her lips and then fell still and deathly silent. It was not a matter of privacy or opportunity that caused her to be so cautious at any other time, though she was now beyond helping herself in any way other than sexually. As a lonely and bored single mother, she wasn’t frigid but long gone were the days where she could switch on her libido at will. At 38 she no longer knew what she wanted, but when she read one of her stories she would know whether she had found it or not. In stories such as this one she had found it.
Her son Ben spent so much of his time locked away in his room these days. She didn’t have to worry about that. Tammy had already finished a pile of laundry, stored away the dishes and showered, all before 9pm. It was her “me time” and she was making full use of it, albeit still very guiltily. Imagine if her son knew not only what she was doing but also the nature of those stories.
But then all that was on her mind the past few days was how many times Lit user Erotikinesis could drive her up the wall, pussy dripping, heart pounding and mind racing with the sheer vividness of his mother-son incest tales. Several times that week, almost every other night, he had fucked her to completion with the power of his imagination and when Tammy regained control of herself, only after saturating the leather seat with her salty sweet juices, she decided that she had to contact him to thank him, and to tell him why!
“I just wanted to thank you for your stories and to let you know that I am constantly wet and aching all day and night because of you. I’m writing this breathless and with sticky wet fingers, literally reeling at the thought of my son seducing and fucking me the way you described,” Tammy wrote and hit ‘SEND’ before logging out.
The very next day, during her lunch hour, she dared to look, to see if Erotikinesis had replied. In her inbox, the one and only email read – or screamed-
RE: THANK YOU.
Sent from her son’s email address…
Tammy came over dizzy. Surely it was a mistake or a coincidence. Tammy opened the message and read it.
“Dear ‘IfOnlyMySonKnew’,” he began, “thank you for such a wonderful sexy compliment. And from a mother as well – you don’t know how hot that is to me. What was your favourite story bursa escort and what did you like most about it?”
What should she have done? Tammy traced the end of one short manicured nail across her lips as she thought about it, her dark blue eyes suddenly lost and distant an unmeasureable number of miles away. And she found her heart fluttering, because what if this was Ben – her Ben?
Though she had never completely thought of him in a sexual way, as though to consider having sex with him, she had projected his appearance onto several fictional characters in the past and visualised him with other women.
And Tammy could not deny herself or her deepest, darkest fantasies. She loved taboo incest erotica. She had fallen hopelessly for it and was fuelled by it. Maybe to the point of addiction, she could get off without it less and less, and admittedly it excited her in ways that left other genres incomparable.
Was this Ben Adams THE Ben Adams? Was this her son? It could only have been a huge coincidence, she imagined, and so Tammy forced doubt onto herself, dismissing the possibility, and replied.
“Last night I read ‘Come to Bed with Mommy’ and it had me begging to be fucked exactly the way Ben did his mother Tamara. It could be that Tamara is my name and that I have a son named Ben. That coincidence lent itself. But your powers of description and suggestion, the chemistry and the emotional build, all of those things pulled me in deep. The sex itself completely finished me off!”
“No kidding. My mom’s name is Tammy. I actually wrote that with her in mind,” Ben soon replied. “She would probably lose her mind if she knew, and I never before considered writing a character with her in mind, but it was a hell of an experience writing it.”
He was right about that – the part about losing her mind. Tammy decided to leave it at that. Squirming in her cafeteria seat she continued to watch over her inbox, wondering if any other home truths were about to come through. In denial of the real reason, because she was now so confused and aroused at the same time, her head remained in the gutter as her friends idly chatted around her.
Before she jumped to conclusions, Tammy would have to chase one minor detail or two, which she would get around to as soon as she got home later that afternoon!
She rode like the devil was chasing, well aware that she was more likely racing to meet him head on having skipped the last hour at work. She had more than enough flexi-time to spare. Nobody batted an eyelid as she darted from her cubicle, clocked out and sped out of the parking lot.
Tammy got home to an empty house at twenty past four. She couldn’t have asked for more. Flipping off her heels she pounced up the stairs and into her son’s room to fire up his PC and at the same time logged into her email account via her phone before heading online.
What awaited her? What would affirm the nerves rousing in her gut and the intuition that her gamble was in vain, that her denial was worth nothing? Did she know deep down that Ben was the man she had emailed that afternoon?
In the browser search bar Tammy only had to type in the first three letters of the website’s address before the most recent searches did in fact affirm her suspicions. Incest/Taboo stories everywhere, all of them clearly mother and son titles. That boy was clearly not worried about being discovered. But what really caught her eye really piqued her curiosity. She did have to know for sure.
Tammy baited a restless breath and clicked on the bar labelled “recent activity” and sat perched in Ben’s office chair as the author’s notification’s page appeared, filled with hearts upon hearts and all for a little story titled…
COME TO BED WITH MOMMY
Tammy let out a gasp. Her hand didn’t know whether to defensively go up to her mouth or to race down between her legs where a sudden ache now radiated up to her abdomen. Scrolling down, she soon found her own username next to a heart, where she had favourited his story.
‘Oh my,’ she muttered, suddenly not knowing what to think or where to look. And there it was. Ben, Tammy’s son, was not only a writer of mother-son incest erotica, he had written her favourite story as a personal fantasy, about his own mother. And she had been getting off to his stories, turned on by them like she’d never been before.
Tammy sat back and forced herself to take a few deep breaths. Was it getting hot in here? Her cheeks were flushing and burning up. She fanned herself with both hands but to no avail. Tammy and her son were both incest lovers, fantasising about mothers fucking sons and clearly neither of them had an ounce of shame between them.
‘What do I do?’
‘Mom,’ Ben called from downstairs. The front door promptly closed behind him. Panicking, Tammy ran out of the room, phone in hand, and bolted for the bathroom.
‘Hey son, I’ll be downstairs in a minute,’ she called back and closed the door behind her, dropping herself bursa escort bayan down on the edge of the bathtub to check her emails one last time.
“No kidding, my mom’s name is Tammy. I wrote that with her in mind…”
‘What have I done, Ben? What have you done?’ she whispered harshly to herself. She didn’t know what to say. How would she act? How would he not know the state he had left her in, being the man that brought these dark fantasies out to play? Was he serious that he wanted to do those things to his mother, or was it just pure red-blooded male fantasy?
When Ben passed by the bathroom door on his way to his room Tammy held her breath again. Worn out from another day’s intensive brain work at the office, Ben slumped back into his office chair with his eyes closed and exhaled a long, ragged breath of relief. Oddly the seat of the chair was warm as though somebody had been sitting in it.
When he opened his eyes to find that the screen was lit and that the Literotica Recent Activity page was plastered all over the screen…
Tammy left the bathroom and bypassed Ben’s room. She decided that she would speak to him a little later on the subject. She would have to. There was no further question about that. First she needed a distraction to help her to calm down. Dinner made sense. Everybody liked dinner. Dinner didn’t question anybody’s motives. Dinner didn’t need to know!
Tammy decided on a sausage casserole with mashed potatoes and got to work like a woman possessed when Ben appeared beside her some time later, notably quiet and moving with caution. She was dicing onions when she sensed him and greeted him with a brave smile. That seemed to have caught him by surprise; maybe because he was expecting hell to pay.
‘Hey Ben, how was work?’ Tammy asked by habit, looking up a few inches to meet his nervous eyes. ‘You look a little strung…’
Ben forced a smile and swooped in to kiss her on the cheek, which also surprised her, as did the way his hand brushed casually along her elbow. What was that, she wondered. It left her tingling. ‘I am a little. They’re definitely trying to get their money’s worth this week. New boss sucks ass!’
‘Most bosses do,’ Tammy said outright. ‘Male or female?’
‘It’s a woman. Her name’s Carol. Something tells me she doesn’t care for men so much. We think she might be a closet feminist…’
‘Oh well then you’re screwed, son,’ Tammy replied, fighting back the sting in her eyes as she carved up the last of the onions and threw them in the skillet. ‘If she doesn’t like men AND she’s a feminist then she could be a misandrist.’
‘What the hell is one of those?’ Ben asked, filling the kettle under the tap.
‘A man-hater, honey; they use the likes of feminism to hold high their personal grudges.’
‘Fuck that,’ he reacted, settling the kettle down and flipping the switch. Instinctively Tammy would normally have warned Ben about that kind of language, but she didn’t. To avoid the reality and the gravity of her hidden dilemma, she buried herself into the conversation.
‘No you really don’t want to do that,’ she joked but she wasn’t really joking. ‘In fact that’s usually the reason they’re so angry with men – aside from the fact that they’re so hard to look at and so bitter that no man in the right mind would.’
‘Mom,’ Ben said and began to laugh under his breath. What had gotten into her? ‘It’s almost like you know her. Take a wild guess what she looks like…’
‘Obese, granny glasses, bad hair, mouth like an asshole with lipstick on it…’
‘Wow, I guess you do know her,’ Ben said in his utter surprise. Still she wouldn’t look at him. He could sense that something was amiss and he was worried that he knew why. If his suspicions were true and he found out for sure, he would die of shame.
‘Dinner in an hour if that’s okay?’ Tammy asked, watching the sausages brown.
“Quick question,” Tammy typed into a reply later that evening. “You already know about the coincidence that you and I share the names of your mother and my son. Have you considered the strange possibility that maybe I’m sending this message to my son while he’s sitting across the room from me, watching the television?”
Tammy put her phone in her lap and turned back to the TV, but her sights were focused indirectly on Ben, who was in fact lazing on the couch. She could see him by her periphery, enough to look like she wasn’t paying attention as the message tone of his own phone sounded. He wasted no time in answering. Craftily, Tammy had turned off the message tone to her email so that he wouldn’t catch on to what was happening.
Two minutes later:
“Omg that would be strange wouldn’t it? Okay then if you’re my mom then what’s on television and what am I wearing?”
“Okay you got me,” Tammy typed. “You’re sitting at your computer typing my next favourite mommy fantasy.”
“Ha! I knew it! Tease!” Ben gave his mother a cursory glance and again returned to his show.
“You’re escort bursa watching Game of Thrones in your white basketball shorts,” Tammy replied, noting Ben’s white basketball shorts. As soon as she hit send, she regretted it. What was even going through her mind anymore but the fact that she knew what he didn’t? What was she playing at?
She left the room as calmly and as normally as she could, but as the ringtone on Ben’s phone sounded again and he looked up to her, wondering where she was going, Tammy smiled and offered him a wink.
As she locked herself into her bedroom and settled back into her seat, the one in which she had masturbated vigorously only twenty four hours previously to her own son’s incest fantasy, Tammy took a deep breath and awaited the tidal wave of anxiety that was set to sweep right over her. Her arms and legs were shaking. Her stomach was flipping madly with nerves. She had to do something to take control of the situation, for both their sakes.
On the one hand she couldn’t wrap her head around what it meant and what it could lead to, that both she and her son shared the same deliciously depraved fantasy – a fantasy that involved the both of them – and yet had maintained it as a best kept secret for good reason.
What would become if she left it where it was, with Ben no doubt left in shock and embarrassment, knowing that his own mother had exposed his secret? But then there was the matter of the emails between them before Tammy realised just who her fantasy writer really was.
Maybe, she thought…
Maybe I need to be honest with him, but more importantly to be honest with myself in front of him, so that he can rest assured that he’s not alone; that it’s not so big a deal. With that, she returned to her email account. A new message was already awaiting her.
“Mom, please just forget it happened. I am so sorry. If this is really you and it wasn’t a lucky guess, I cannot be sorry enough!”
“Yes it’s me,” Tammy typed nervously. “I’m just as shocked as you are. But we have to talk about this. I’m going to stay in my room for a while and give you your space. But I want to speak to you so let me know I can and I’ll call you instead…”
‘Hey son,’ Tammy began cautiously and took a deep breath when she couldn’t think where to begin.
‘Mom,’ Ben moaned miserably, ‘I am so sorry, please don’t think I’m a freak.’
‘Well, we’re in a weird situation here, Ben, so let’s say we admit we’re both freaks and go from there,’ Tammy offered warily. ‘Just listen to me a moment, relax and let me talk for both of us. Can you do that?’
‘Yes mom,’ he sulked. ‘I am soooo…’
‘Sorry, yeah, that’s gonna get worn out by the time we’re done!’
‘I’m just gonna turn off the TV and go to my room as well, then,’ Ben said and did so, talking as he went. ‘So go on then, what do I say?’
‘You listen like I told you,’ Tammy said patiently and listened out for him as he passed her bedroom door. ‘First of all, if you recall, there’s the matter of me having read your story on the website and then emailed you my gratitude, never imagining that my own son would have replied in person. Do you remember what we talked about in your emails briefly?’
‘Forgive my mind for being kinda blank right now, mom,’ Ben said excitedly. ‘We exchanged the typical kind of compliments associated with the subject,’ he recalled careful of his choice of words.
‘I read those kinds of stories. You write them. We’re kinda kinky that way, it would seem,’ Tammy explained frankly and then offered a little laugh. ‘Please don’t be ashamed or embarrassed or at least think that you’re alone in this. You’re not in trouble. And I stand by what I said. Your writing is pretty good.’
‘You’re not mad?’ Ben asked bewilderedly before stifling an anguished wail. He was cringing so hard lying on his bed that very moment, his mind reeling, the urge to take flight now maddening. He just wanted to bolt and to run as fast as he could.
‘I’m honestly too weirded out to be mad,’ his mother admitted after some time, ‘but I’m more likely to be mad with myself for putting us in this position. Obviously being that I enjoy the stories a lot… I would never have taken issue with you writing them… but…’
THE FATE OF THE WORLD WAS NOW HINGING ON WHAT CAME AFTER “BUT”!
‘I never should have put us in this position, especially when I already knew it was you.’
‘You already knew?’ It dawned on him then. She did, and she had tricked him, too. ‘I suppose I deserved that,’ he concluded sullenly.
‘No, it was pretty cruel of me. I am sorry. Do you accept my apology? I didn’t know what to do!’
‘I’ll think about it…’
‘I deserve less,’ she muttered.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Ben mumbled.
‘I love you. You’re a good son to me and I’d be lost and lonely without you,’ Tammy admitted, feeling the familiar emotional sting burning behind her eyes.
‘Me too, mom…’
‘Yeah,’ Tammy reacted and waited. It seemed like Ben was hesitating.
‘I do love you, mom. I couldn’t care less about anything else. But I’m still embarrassed as hell right now. I think I’ll stay in my room too.’
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32