Mom , Son, A Wonderful Match

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A fictional story of mother son incest, of voyeurism and exhibitionism.

Everyone is eighteen or older.


She knew he was there. She had come to expect it, indeed she felt a thrill of anticipation whenever she went to shower. She faced the door as she dried herself giving him a full frontal view. She lifted and caressed her smallish, but plump, breasts as she dried them. They were grapefruit sized with large dark areoles and plump nipples. The nipples were firm and erect now indicating her arousal as did the juiciness of her pussy.

She wondered if he was more attracted to her tits or the full bush that capped her bare pussy, the wild thatch of hair she deliberately displayed to his spying eye. She carried things a little further today. She put one foot up on the toilet seat, to better display her twat, as she passed the towel over her thighs. Her labia were puffy with desire as she put on a show for him. A show he didn’t know was deliberate on her part.

In the beginning it had bothered her, the fact that her son was peeking at her. Anger at first, but for some reason she didn’t confront him; Nor did she try to prevent his peeking by plugging the keyhole. She soon found herself enmeshed in an attempt at understanding. She made excuses for him, telling herself that it was part of a young man’s curiosity, but he was twenty years old. Still she made no effort to stop his activities.

She had come to accept his peeking, gingerly at first. A suppressed streak of exhibitionism soon revealed itself. She found herself deliberately displaying herself, even posing, for him. That in turn led to desires she was having more and more trouble controlling.

Why won’t you do something besides peek? She sent him a silent message. Don’t you know you can have me? That you only have to take me?

She often wondered why he had so few dates. He was no Adonis, but not all that bad looking either. He had a good body, slim; but just a little soft. An image was in her mind. A vision of them having sex. He was on top, her arms held him close. Her legs clasped him.

Her pussy felt empty, needy. It had been so long, so many years. She had not had a man since her husband, his father, died. She had not wanted to give him a bad impression of herself as he was growing up. He was adult now, a man.

There was only the two of them, alone in the house. It had been that way since Jack had died. Jack, her husband. She had decided she would bring up her son to respect her, and his memory. She forswore sex until he was an adult. At first she wouldn’t even masturbate, but later her needs drove her to do so. She bought a vibrator after a couple of years and eventually a couple more.

He masturbated, she knew that. She did the laundry after all. And he had snooped in her room. She wasn’t quite so sure of that, but a few times some of the drawers seemed to be different than how she had left them. Sometimes a pair of her panties came up missing too. They always showed up again a couple of days later. Occasionally with traces of his cum crusted in them.

She finished drying herself and reached for her robe. She heard the slight rustle as he left the keyhole to scurry back to his room.

Why should I want him? She wondered. After all wasn’t peeking at your mother a perversion? But it was just that idea that thrilled her. Was she perverted herself?

She would have to do something soon, she could hardly bear the empty feeling in her twat. Her vibrators were only a temporary fix. She needed a cock. A warm, hard cock and a body. But only his body, she had no desire for any other man.

She often felt like he was there, thrusting his hard cock deep into her wet pussy. It was only a dream. The hard cock only the shaft of a vibrator. Even so those times she fantasized about him were some of her more satisfying masturbation sessions.

She went to the kitchen for her coffee. He would take his turn in the shower. She wondered if she should go peek, like he did. She had, a few times. The results had been only so-so. She was almost sure he had masturbated behind the shower curtain. When he was drying himself he had been facing the keyhole, but his cock was flaccid, not the hard shaft she wanted to see. A hard shaft ready to enter her, to fuck her.

He came down for breakfast, ready for school. He was in his second year at a local college. He was studying engineering and doing well. Her husband had left them comfortably well off, as long as they were careful with expenses. They could not afford a school away from home.

He finished his breakfast, kissed his mother on the cheek and left for his classes.


It was that very day that she found one of the magazines he had hidden away.

It was under the pillow of his bed. The bed that he always made himself, to save his mother work, he said. Still in her bathrobe she had been using the dust mop under the bed. She had accidently disarranged the bedding. While canlı bahis remaking the bed she found the magazine. The magazine and a pair of panties she had worn the day before.

‘Chubby Mommies’ was the title of the magazine. She sat on the edge of the bed and began to leaf through it. Her fingers were soon at her pussy, at her clit; massaging it, masturbating.

The magazine was filled with picture of young men with older, overweight, scantily clad women. The pictures were lurid. Short narratives accompanied them making it plain that she was looking at mother and son incest.

There were pictures of young men with their hard cock at their mother’s pussy; hard and poised to slide into her wet cunt. There were pictures of sons with their cock fully embedded in their mothers’ hot pussy. There were pictures of sons eating their mothers’ pussies. More pictures of chubby mommies sucking their sons’ cock. Sons and mothers naked next to each other both masturbating, or masturbating each other. Sons pushing big vibrators into their mother’s cunts. There were even a few of anal sex, but she skipped over them. She didn’t think she wanted to do it that way.

The pictures of sons eating their mothers’ pussies intrigued her. More than intrigued her, excitement enveloped her. The pictures of mothers sucking their son’s cocks were just as stimulating. She felt a need, a need to take a hard shaft into her mouth. These were things she had never done. The idea of them, if her husband had suggested such, would have disturbed her; maybe even caused a feeling of disgust.

My thoughts about sex have changed, she thought. Changed radically. Maybe because of my years satisfying myself. Or maybe because of the displays I’ve been putting on for him and the desire that has aroused in me.

On another page she found pictures of Mommy and Auntie. The two women were eating each other’s pussies as the son watched and stroked his hard cock. In another picture they were in a circle each sucking and licking one of the others. Or still others where the son was fucking one of the ladies while she ate the other woman’s cunt. There were more pictures in the same vein on the next couple of pages. She felt a strange thrill as she looked at the pictures of women with women, or threesomes with the son included. Once again something she never considered for herself gave her an unexpected thrill.

Maybe someday, an unbidden thought crossed her mind.

She thought about what she could do.

She took the magazine with her to her own bedroom. She dropped her robe and examined herself in front of her full length mirror. Yes, she fit the pattern. Somewhat overweight, a little soft and flabby, the beginnings of a roll at her belly, a sagging ass. Her tits sagged too, but not much. They were not overly large and she had always worn a bra, even around the house. Her thighs were pudgy and soft. Any other time she would have sworn to get in shape, not this time.

She had an idea, a plan was developing. If it worked it would bring things to a head.

She would confront him. Make him confess. Make him tell her why he peeked at her, at her naked body. Tell her why he took her panties. To sniff and lick them? To taste her juices, her cum? To jerk off in them? To wear them? No longer would she wait for him to take her. She would take control.

In her fantasies she saw him admitting his love for her, his desire to make love with her. She felt herself getting wet from her thoughts. She laid on the bed and got her favorite vibrator from the drawer. She sucked it to feel it in her mouth, to try to imagine how a real cock would feel. It was a new thought for her. She didn’t understand why the pictures of mommies sucking their son’s cocks should suddenly arouse her.

I don’t need to understand, she thought. I never even thought of it before, but seeing those pictures made me realize that I may have missed something with his father.

She had heard of oral sex, it was impossible not to, but it had never appealed to her very much. Not until she saw a picture of a mother, a ‘chubby mommy’, sucking her son’s cock.

And, yes, the idea of a son eating his mother’s pussy. Her juices flowed as she thought of him between her legs licking and sucking at her hot, wet cunt.

She fingered her pussy as she sucked at her toy. She was so wet. The vibrator slid easily into her cunt, sliding on the slick film of her juices. It was easy to imagine it as a hard cock; his hard cock, her son’s.


She returned the magazine to his bed and put everything back as it had been. She dressed and drove to a lingerie store. She bought a couple of pairs of panties. Silky, with lace trim. One pair was red, the other white. She drove home to put her plan in motion.

She put on the white panties she had bought. Virginal white, she thought. Apt in a way, it’s been so long I’m almost a virgin again. Except for my toys of course. She giggled at the thought.

She bahis siteleri dressed as she normally would except she didn’t wear a bra and wore a dress of thin fabric. Her hope was that he would notice her nipples poking her dress.

She tried to act natural with her son that evening. He had a late class and didn’t get home until almost dinner time. Her nipples were hard from the friction of the fabric and anticipation. She was pleased to note that they poked through the thin material like little bullets.

She thought she handled things okay. Her pussy was wet all through the meal. That was what she wanted, for her juices to soak her panties. She caught him staring at her breasts he would yank his gaze away whenever he saw she had noticed his looks, but his eyes always returned.

The evening went as usual. He studied in his room, she watched TV. She decided to retire a little earlier than usual. She knocked at his bedroom door. There was a long pause before she heard him call for her to come in. She wondered if he had been watching porn, maybe masturbating.

He was at his computer, the screen showed a lesson on technical writing. She stood behind him to say goodnight. She leaned down to kiss his cheek, just as she always did. She let her breast press against his shoulder before she straightened up and left.

In her room she laid on the bed and pulled her dress up to her waist. She felt the gusset of her panties, it was well soaked, but she planned to make it even wetter and more aromatic.

She pushed the panties down so they were at the top of her thighs, there was plenty of loose fabric to work with. She pushed the gusset into her pussy and used her vibrator to push it deeper. The silky material was like a sheath over the shaft of her toy. She found her g-spot and came with a glorious rush, and came yet again. Her panties were soaked with her musky juices. They were ready for him now. Ready to let him know there was a woman in heat.

She went to the bathroom and dropped the panties in the hamper. She made sure they were easy to spot. Back in the bedroom she changed into her nightgown. She put on the red pair of panties, to start the process with them. She climbed into bed and masturbated through the fabric of the panties. The silky material felt good against her hard clit, just as the other pair had been especially stimulating when they sheathed her vibrator.

She heard him go to the bathroom and return to his room. There was the sound of his door closing. Sounds she would not have paid attention to before, before finding the magazine. She slept, after masturbating again to visions of him.

She woke at her usual time. She rose and went to the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth, to check the hamper. She waited until last to see if the panties were missing, she enjoyed the anticipation.

They were gone. He had taken them. Taken them to his bed to sniff and lick; to sense her arousal. To masturbate to the bouquet of her heat, her juices of lust.

She went to the kitchen for her coffee. She sat at the table drinking it and anticipating the evening when he would come home to a surprise.

She went back upstairs to shower. She felt his presence at the door, at the keyhole. She gave him an extra show again that morning. She dried herself and tossed the towel away. She fondled her beasts and tweaked her nipples. She sat on the toilet seat and opened her legs to his view. She spread her labia with her fingers and let the fingers dance and twirl over her clit. She came as much from the excitement of displaying herself as from fingering herself.

She stood and reached for her robe. She heard the rustlings as he left the keyhole. She put her panties back on then, the red ones. They would get more seasoning during the day. She left her bra off.

She went back to the kitchen and began to get breakfast ready for him. She let her robe gap open just a little, enough to give him a glimpse of the swell of her breasts, just enough to entice. She tried to look normal when he came to the kitchen. He seemed flustered. She smiled, her little display had worked.

She made sure he got a look at the flesh she had left exposed. She tried to act bright and motherly. He tried to keep hidden the boner in his pants. He left for school as soon as he could, but not before she had asked what time he would be home. She knew, but wanted to be sure since the hour varied.

She didn’t dress, but stayed in her robe. She got the magazine from his bedroom.

She looked at the magazine checking for pages that might be looked at more than others. She found several. Two were of mom and son fucking. One was missionary position. In the other Mom was on top riding him. Other pages showed the son kneeling between her spread thighs with his head buried in her wild bush. Or of the mommy with his hard cock in her mouth. There were other pictures on those pages. All were of him eating her, or her sucking his cock.

Does bahis şirketleri he really want that? Would he eat my pussy like the picture shows. The young man and the mother in the picture both look like they’re enjoying themselves. He’s certainly hard enough and she has a huge smile. This is something I never thought much about, but it’s making me hot and juicy. I think I want to try it, both ways.

She masturbated several times to relieve the desire the pictures, and the captions, had aroused in her body. Her mouth now had the same empty feeling her pussy did. She was delighted to feel how wet the gusset of her panties was.

In the afternoon she prepared their dinner. One that could be heated in the microwave and left it in the refrigerator.

About an hour before she expected him home she took the panties off and put them over her vibrator as she had with the first pair. She pushed them deep into her hot, wet cunt to soak up her juices, to cum on them, to make them ready for him.

She put on a robe, her nicest one. The length was mid-calf, quite modest. She closed it up to her neck. She wore no panties, and no bra; but nylons and a garter belt, just like some of the women in the magazine. She took her newly soaked panties and the ‘Chubby Mommies’ magazine to his bedroom. She lifted his pillow and retrieved the white panties he had taken from the hamper.

She was fascinated at the idea of her son eating her pussy, or of herself sucking his hard cock. What had been something not to be thought of had become something she yearned for. To be sure his cock filling her pussy was still her first goal.

I wonder how big he is? she thought. Enough to fill me I’m sure. Maybe enough to hurt, but that would only be until I adjust. She had an idea about how big he was, she had seen the bulges in his pants on occasion.

She arranged things on his bed. The new red panties, freshly soaked and scented with her juices, on display in the center of the bed. The magazine just above the panties. She had opened it to the pages she had chosen, with pictures of oral sex. She left the older white panties, neatly folded, next to the display. She stood back and looked. It was just as she wanted.

She went back to her room and closed the door. She would await developments.

She heard him come home. She listened to his footsteps as he came upstairs and walked past her room to his. There was a long silence. She put her ear against the door to hear better. His footsteps came to her door and stopped. Another long silence. A timid knock. She ran back to her chair, she grabbed the pumps she had left handy and slipped them onto her nylon clad feet.

“Come in,” she called out.

He entered somewhat timidly. She noticed that his hands were empty.

“Mom,” he started to stammer.

She cut him off.

“You’ve forgotten something,” she said sternly. “Go back and get it.”

His faced reddened, he turned and left. He was back quickly. The two pair of panties in one hand the magazine in the other.

“Now sit down and tell me everything,” she commanded.

“Mom, I’m sorry,” he began.

She cut him off. “Never mind the apologies. I just want to know why, the truth.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. He laid the magazine and panties next to him.

“Mom, I love you,” he stammered.

She wondered how to handle this. She had thought to bring up his spying on her in the bath. Now she thought it might be better not to embarrass him any more than he already was.

“I know you do, My Dear, but please explain.”

“Mom, it’s been you and I alone together for years. I can only get interested in women who are like you.”

She didn’t respond, not yet.

“Mom, you’re in my thoughts every night. It’s you I want to make love to.”

She stood and moved to the bed. She stood in front of him.

“Tell me more,” she spoke huskily. “Or show me with pictures.”

“Mom, do you mean it?”

“Yes, I really do. I need to understand.”

“Mom, I want to make love with you,” he said again. “I want to be your lover, not just your son.”

“Are you sure? Sure that it’s what you really want?”

“Yes, Mom.”

She reached down for the red panties on the bed next to him. She held them up to his face, dangling them in front of him.

“Show me what you do with my panties.”

He hesitated. She grabbed his hand and brought it to join hers holding the panties. He did not resist. She put the panties in his hand and closed his fingers over them. She pushed the hand and the panties into his face.

“Show me,” she said again.

He inhaled, shallowly at first, then deeper. She felt rather than saw his tongue lick at the wet gusset. She lowered herself to the bed, next to him. She put her hand on his and together they rubbed the panties over his face. She thrilled as he seemed to accept what she was doing and even opened his mouth to suck he juices from the silky fabric.

“You need to ask forgiveness,” she told him. “Kneel and ask for absolution.”

She pushed him from the bed, not roughly. Again he made no show of resistance. She felt sorry her him. Sorry for what she was putting him through.

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