Incest/Taboo Beat the Clock: A Mom's Assignment

Another moment passed and the tension was thick between us and then John found a hidden reserve of strength somewhere and said in a voice that was barely above a whisper, "I reckon I should go hit the books, Mom!"

He turned and hurried down the hallway, slightly hunched over and this time not looking back even when I called out, "Thanks, son. Go get your schoolwork done and I'll call us in a pizza for supper. I picked up some DVDs for us to watch too!" John was in such a hurry, he barely mumbled in reply.

I dressed, feeling sinful in a nice way as I slipped on my crotchless panties, admiring myself in the mirror and how the black lace contrasted so well with my wispy blonde muff. I then slipped into a slinky little black lace peignoir that I'd bought earlier. I found it very sexy in that it more teased at what was hidden underneath than actually revealed. It hung to mid thigh, although I quickly discovered it would draw up close to my crotch when I sat down -- even further if I wasn't careful. The scooped neck offered up a voluptuous view of my heavy, meaty breasts, just skirting the edge of my aureoles, yet transparently revealing my nipples in sheer silk swatches.

When I emerged into the kitchen, my "fuck me" pumps back on, I was feeling nasty and whorish and part of me, especially the part between my legs was urging me to get on up stairs and just throw myself at my son. Still, part of me sensed he wasn't quite ready and even though time was passing quickly -- it was already somehow past six o'clock, I felt I had to proceed cautiously.

My confidence in my plan took a shattering hit when right after I called in the pizza, the phone rang and I discovered it was Dale on the other end. I felt panic rise up in me and wondered if my previous caller was listening in and I had to steel myself simply to pass pleasantries with my husband as he yammered on and on about his first day at his seminar. While he rhapsodized about new insurance statistics, I had to fight the urge to scream at him to run to the police and somehow get himself protected, my impulses squelched by my certain knowledge that if I did so, he might be saved, but that I was condemning my daughter to death.

Then a terrible wave of guilt washed over me as I realized that for the first time in our marriage, I was going to be unfaithful to him. But what else could I do? I felt a little crazy for a moment as Dale talked on, fighting a new urge to just ask him, "Hey honey, what would you prefer I do -- let you be murdered or fuck our son?"

Finally my air of distraction became obvious even to my husband. "Con -- are you okay, babe?" Dale asked. "Is our boy taking care of you while I'm gone?"

I fought down the urge to just start laughing or crying and replied, "Oh sure, you'll -- um, you'd be proud of him." That seemed to mollify my husband and after we discussed his schedule, he told me he'd see me Monday evening and that he loved me.

"I love you, too, Dale," I replied a bit numbly and after he hung up, I rushed back to the bathroom and had myself a good cry. Afterwards, I left money on the little table in our foyer and called up to my son to pay the pizza guy when he arrived, then I retreated to the kitchen and struggled to regroup -- to muster up whatever was inside me that would see this seduction through.

To my surprise, it didn't take me long to find it. I thought over and over about what I had to do -- fuck my son and I focused on how hard I -- his mother, had made him with my little fashion show and naughty flashing. The more I thought about that big bulge in his pants, I felt the fires again growing between my legs and I squirmed in my chair at the kitchen table again trying to understand how I could feel both ashamed and aroused at the same time.

It was almost seven-thirty when the doorbell rang and I had to yell up to John twice to come answer it. I gathered myself up and collected plates and drinks and placed them on a serving tray while listening to my son come downstairs and deal with the pizza delivery guy. When I heard the door close, I carried the tray down the hallway to the living room. When I arrived, John had the pizza on the coffee table and was looking over the DVDs I'd picked up -- a frown on his face.

"What's the matter, honey? Didn't I buy anything good?"

John began to answer me, but his reply died on his lips as he took in his scantily dressed mother. My negligee either scared him or aroused him or hopefully both. I wondered what he might be thinking -- maybe wondering why I was so sexily dressed, obviously not wearing a bra and as his eyes scanned downward, studying the hem of my peignoir, recalling that my panties were crotchless.

I leaned over and set down the tray, my breasts almost falling out and certainly giving him a tremendous view of my cleavage. "Honey...son? Everything okay?" I asked softly, handing him a plate and a soda.

He continued to stare for a few more seconds, face darkening up like before. Then he shook himself out of his stupor and found his voice. "Um...what. No, uh, I mean, yeah, I'm okay, Mom." He looked around, grasping for words, staring first at the pizza and then at the DVD's in his hands. "Oh, uh, these movies...I'm not sure you're going to like them. I think they're kind of..." He had to search for the word. "They're kinda crude, Mom."

Actually they were really crude and really raunchy. I'd picked them out carefully. They were mostly so-called teen comedies about teenage boys trying to get laid or just losing their virginity and just chock full of naked women of all ages, mostly with improbably huge tits. I selected one of them and popped it into the player while we both sat on the couch and ate pepperoni pizza. It was the sleaziest of the lot, the storyline roughly about a young man trying to lose his virginity to a sexy young thang, but winding up bedding her sexy older thang of a mother. It was crude and nasty, full of cursing and nudity and even funny in a silly sort of way.

John's attention was never totally on the movie, his eyes drawn again and again to me sitting at the other end of the couch, following me whenever I got up to go the bathroom or get something more to drink. With every movement, I would wind up a little closer to my son on the couch -- him almost shrinking into the corner. I shifted about constantly, giving my son quick flashes of my crotch as my peignoir would ride upwards. Before too long, he had a huge bulge in his pants.

Finally the first movie ended and it was now past ten o'clock, I knew time was quickly running out. I got up and put in another DVD, making a big production out of bending over, letting the negligee ride up and expose my ass and my uncovered mound. I was scared and turned on and could feel the heat and slipperiness of my labia, swollen and wet and very much exposed to my son.

When I sat back down, I sat right next to John, curling up to him with a contented sigh, my feet underneath me and the hem of my peignoir hovering right around my crotch. This movie was an old 1970's soft porn comedy -- a European feature in poorly dubbed English with scads of nudity and barely concealed sex. John sat there tense and wired, my hand on his forearm, my fingers lightly scratching along the fine hairs of his arm. His heart was beating hard enough for me to feel it and he was breathing heavily.

As we watched a scene where a young man fucked an older woman with big, bouncing breasts and wearing an awful blonde wig, I snuggled up closer to my son, my breast mashing against his upper arm, almost falling free from my outfit. As the woman's screams of orgasm began to fade, I whispered as I stroked his skin, "John, thank you for helping me out today -- for being the man I needed."

Barely audible, John replied, "Yeah...um, anytime, Mom."

"It really meant a lot to me, hearing you tell me how beautiful I am...how sexy I am." I paused and moved my fingers down to his hand and interlocking our fingers, added, "A woman my age can't hear that sort of thing enough."

There was a long pause and then John said, "Well, it's true, Mom. You are beautiful."

I turned my head to look up at him and asked in a quite voice, "Really, son?"

My son gave me a shy smile and said, "Really, Mom -- I've always thought you were beautiful."

I lifted myself up and gave my son a slow, lingering peck on the cheek, my meaty breast rubbing against his body as I moved. "You're so sweet, baby," I said, giving his hand a squeeze."

Silence followed and we turned our attention back to the screen where the older blonde haired woman was now on her knees, the young man behind her and her face screwed up into an expression of pained ecstasy. I squirmed about, working my way closer against my son and letting my hand fall just above his knee. The tension in the room doubled as we watched the scene play out on the television screen.

A clock up on the mantle chimed -- announcing that it was ten-thirty -- I had ninety minutes to seduce my son and save my daughter and her father. I took a deep breath and made my move. "Son?" I said.

"Yes, Mom?"

"This afternoon when I was modeling my new clothes for you, did I make you hard?"

My son gasped and his body stiffened and I think he halfheartedly tried to rise, but I kept my hand firmly on his leg. "Please, John. I really want to know."

Silence ensued...punctuated only by the low, animal moans of the woman on the screen. I slid my hand a few inches up John's thigh and said, "Please tell me -- did Momma make your cock hard?"

John licked his lips and opened his mouth and then closed it. His face was turned to the television screen and finally, unable to turn and look at me, he whispered, "Yes."

I slid my fingers further up his thigh, stopping just sigh of the tent pole that had risen up. I asked the obvious. "Son, are you hard right now?"

He nodded, swallowing with difficulty and unable to speak. "John, are you hard now because we're watching that woman get fucked or are you hard because of me?"

My son began to nod again, but I leaned into him and with my free hand, took him by his chin and turned his face towards me. "Tell Momma the truth."

There were tears in his eyes as the moment began to overwhelm him and he sobbed, "You, Mom. You're making me hard!" He began to cry, but I made shushing noises and put my finger on his lips and then I rose slightly and pressed my lips to his, kissing him gently and lovingly, mostly with a closed mouth, but using my tongue to wash over his soft lips every few moments. I'm not sure why, but it seemed to calm him down a little.

"Thank you, sweetie. I'm glad I made your cock stiff -- I wanted to turn you on," I said. I slipped my hand further up and palmed the khaki covered monster in his crotch. I could feel it pulsing in rhythm with his heart. I looked into my son's eyes and with an eager, pleading tone said, "Can I see it, John? Can Momma see her son's big, erect cock?"

Again my son, eyes wide in amazement and near panic, was rendered speechless and could only and helplessly nod. Never taking my eyes off my son's face, trying to convey my love for him through eye contact alone, I worked his belt loose and then unbuttoned his pants and drew down his zipper -- John tensing up as I slipped my hand into his crotch, through the opening of his boxers and for the first time, wrapped my fingers around my son's erect penis!

Freeing it from the confines of his shorts, I finally looked down and now I was speechless. Oh my god! Who the hell knew my son was carrying around such a huge piece of cockflesh. Almost mesmerized, I began to slowly stroke it, feeling it pulse with life in my grip. I tore my eyes away from my son's mammoth cock and looked again into his eyes.

"John, your cock is lovely," I breathed hoarsely. "It's so damn big!" I lowered my voice conspiratorially and added, "You're much bigger than your father!" which was not a lie. Just holding it in my hand, I knew my son's cock was both longer and thicker than Dale's penis. Still stroking his cock, I rose up again and kissed him on the lips, rolling my tongue over his still pressed together lips.

"Mom?" my son finally managed to gasp. "We can't -- we shouldn't be doing...this is wrong!"

"No it's not, baby," I said gently, never ceasing my slow stroking. "You love me and I love you. I make you hard and you..." I paused for emphasis. "You make your mother wet!"

John's eyes widened and he whispered, "What?"

I slowly spread my knees, knowing I was pulling the hem of the peignoir upwards, revealing my exposed cunt, naked and framed by the sexy black lace of my crotchless panties. "You make my pussy wet, son. The love I have for you -- my need for you and this fine cock has made my pussy wetter than it's ever been in my entire life." I reached out with my free hand and found his almost limp hand. "Feel me for yourself, baby. Touch Momma and see how hot and wet I am for you!"

I tugged his hand towards me, letting it come to rest on my inner thigh just a few inches from my flowered labia, now darkly pink and wetly glistening. I released his hand. It was important that he make the move on his own -- instinctively, I knew this.

My own voice now took on an odd quaver as I was growing overwhelmed by the moment, horrified at what I had to do and even more horrified at what I suddenly wanted, no, needed to do. I couldn't believe how excited I was. My nipples were so swollen that they hurt. "Touch me, sweetheart. Feel what you do to me!"

I held my breath, not taking my eyes off my son's face while I continued to slowly masturbate him. His hand remained motionless for the longest time and then I felt him move! His hand slid up my thigh, brushing over the lacy silk of my panties and then paused, hovering over the heat of my cunt. "It's alright, John. Please touch me -- I want you to."

I let out a little gasp as for the first time in my life, my son's fingers brushed through my wispy bush and then pressed against my wet labia. John paused again, eyes wide with desire and perhaps madness, no doubt reflecting the incestuous lust shining in my own eyes and then, one finger -- then two began to trail along my slit, between my swollen and quivering lips, sinking deeper as they moved and then deeper as he probed for my opening. "Yessss!" I hissed as my son's fingers found their way deeper inside my pussy. I began trying to clamp down around his fingers, wanting to feel him inside me.

"Oh, Mom!" John moaned. "You -- you're sooooo hot and soooo wet!" He waggled his fingers around sinking them to the second knuckle and I ground myself against his hand. "I love you, Mom!"

Almost on the verge of tears, both ashamed and aroused, I whispered back, "I love you too, John," and then I leaned into him again and kissed him, forcing my tongue between his lips and gratified and excited as he began to kiss me back, his tongue probing uncertainly into my mouth. As we kissed, I continued my slow stroking of his cock which seemed to grow a bit more around my fingers, blood pulsing within that mighty pole more rapidly with each passing moment. I passed my thumb gently over the top of his cockhead, smearing the thick drops of precum dripping from the slit of his cock.

John was doing his part, making me shiver with pleasure as he plunged another finger into my pussy, probing and discovering my sweet spots like a natural. I made excited mewing noises against his mouth, rubbing myself up against his body like a female cat in heat. I reached out and took his free hand and guided it to my breasts, tugging down the neckline of my peignoir and letting my breasts spring free. John moaned happily as he began kneading my heavy tits, palms scraping against my turgid nipples and sending more bolts of pleasure through my body.

Animalistic passion took over -- all thoughts of shame banished and on the verge of orgasm, I pulled away from my son only to sink to my knees in front of him. For the moment I was beyond words, beyond any coherent plan. Suddenly, I had my son in my mouth, running my tongue over his cock, sucking his cockhead furiously, never losing eye contact and reveling in the look of utter pleasure now on his face.

I sucked and lapped up his precum and slowly took all of him in my mouth until his wiry blonde pubes were tickling my nose. Then, despite being almost drunk with sheer carnal desire, I realized I was tasting cum -- not that he'd shot his load yet, but I could taste it on his shaft and in his crotch and I became suddenly aware of the dampness of his pubic thatch. It hit me hard, almost making me swoon as realization swept over me. He'd masturbated within the last few hours!

I let my son slowly slip from my lips and then as I took his stiff rod in hand, rubbing it over my cheeks and lips, I looked up at him and said, "You jacked yourself off after my fashion show, didn't you?" I probably would have sent him into a panic if not for my lusty, evil grin. John nodded slowly.

"You went upstairs and stroked this big cock while thinking of your Momma, didn't you, baby?" I cooed before running my tongue up the length of his long and hard penis.

"Yes, Mom," John gasped.

"Mmmmmm, well, you'll never need to jack off again, son. Momma will make sure of that!" I growled before taking him in my mouth again, sucking my son off with a vengeance. As I bobbed my head up and down on his shaft, massaging his velvet steel with my lips and tongue, I felt his fingers fall to my head, curling around my short blonde hair till he was helping me work my head back and forth -- fucking my face as much as I was sucking his dick. I moaned my approval at this, making him moan in return.

It didn't take too long from there. I heard John's breath quicken and his cock began to swell and he cried out, "OH CHRIST, MOM! I'M CUMMMING!" And my god, he came -- a great gusher of hot sperm exploding from his cock into my mouth. Sweet, clean tasting cum. I'd forgotten how a young man's semen could taste. John thrust himself against my face, crying with pleasure as I continued to suck him and then I felt myself nearly orgasm as reality came crashing in.

My mind reeled as I realized that for the first time in over twenty-one years, I had a cock in my mouth that wasn't my husband's -- amazement that doubled as part of me screamed, "You're sucking your son's big cock. YOU'RE EATING YOUR SON'S HOT, DELICIOUS CUM...AND YOU FUCKING LOVE IT!"

I couldn't help but love what I was doing. It had been years since I'd felt this much passion for a man...for my husband. A dam of repressed sexual need exploded into release, narrowing down in focus to this wonderful cock of my own child's, a cock I just kept sucking and sucking, draining his load and delighting in tasting and swallowing every drop.

My son squirmed and shook with pleasure and I continued sucking his cock. The sensations overwhelmed him -- my sure and determined loving of his sensitive flesh became too much and I continued to suck his cock, even as he tried to withdraw, putting pressure on my head, tugging me by the hair to let him go. I resisted and as he moaned from the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain that my mouth and tongue were delivering, I sucked on his still stiff cock even harder.

Minutes passed with John moaning, "Mom -- I love you, Mom, but, oh God, too much...OH, MOM!" Still, I sucked my son's cock without pause, paying attention for any sign of shrinking and becoming pleased with myself as it continued to throb, stiff and firm in my hungry mouth. My own needs now began to assert themselves and now assured of my son's erection continuing, I wanted it and him inside me.

"Baby, do you think you can fuck Momma?" I gasped as I let him slide from my lips, a long streamer of saliva and sperm trailing with me until it finally snapped and splattered against my exposed breasts. I began to fall back, shoving the coffee table away so I could lie on my back, drawing my knees up and then spreading them to expose my wet and hungry cunt to my son.

John sat there, cock standing up stiff and proud from his lap, staring at his mother, exposed in my almost total nakedness -- leaving no doubt about my desire for him. The little bit of my mind that was still sane glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was just past eleven o'clock -- I was so close now.

I held out my arms, spreading my legs wider. "Please, son. I want you. I need you." I thrust my pelvis up, flaunting myself to my youngest child -- trying to entice him with the slick wet, pink flesh flowered open before him. "Please, John, please fuck me! Fuck your mother!"

My son stood up and for a terrible moment, I thought he was going to run away. "I want...Mom, I've...I've never..." He swallowed slowly and whispered in a fearful voice. "I'm a virgin, Mom."

As his words sank in, I wanted him even more. "It's okay, baby. I would love to be my son's first lover. I waggled my fingers in a "come here" motion. "C'mon, John. Come here and fuck your mother!" I said in a voice filled with need and desire and lust. I asked my son to fuck me in a lusty manner that I had never even used with his father in our most passionate times.

"I love you, Mom! John groaned as he fell to his knees before me, walking awkwardly and leaning over me. I took him in my embrace and kissed him passionately, wrapping my arms around him, holding him to me as we hunched at each other. I felt his hard dick move back and forth over my mound -- leaving smears of semen, my saliva and newly produced precum in my sparsely haired bush and up as far as my stomach.

I drew my feet up and worked his undone pants down to his ankles where he managed to kick free of them altogether. Between wet, sloppy kisses and breathless exclamations of love to each other, I yanked his t-shirt over his head and flung it away, showering his chest with kisses -- his flesh still a little doughy with the last vestiges of baby fat, but a man's body beginning to be defined.

My son's body shivered as I tongued his hard, pebble-like nipples, sucking at them and nipping them with my teeth as he humped his body against mine. Between my legs, a fire raged, being stoked into a terrible conflagration with each movement of his big, hard penis against my swollen lips. I needed to be fucked. I needed to be fucked by my son. I needed to be fucked by my son right now!

I reached down with one hand and took his throbbing member and placed it against the wet, clasping opening of my aching, needy pussy. It was time. I was about to be fucked by my own child. I never in my life felt so complete. In accepting my son's cock inside of me, I was being a good mother and wife -- saving my husband and daughter from a madman's whim, but even as an image of Dale and Kim came to mind, cheering me happily on in the knowledge that I was doing this for them, the utter and complete truth was present as well. I was about to be fucked by my son because I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted my son to fuck me as I had never wanted anything before.

As John's cock began to press into my cunt -- as his huge cock-head was enveloped by my hot, tender and oh-so wet flesh, I heard my son growl and like a wild beast taking its mate, my sweet son, John, took me, ramming his huge dick inside me to the hilt in one fierce thrust. I threw my head back and let out with a scream as my tender, aroused flesh yielded to his long, massive pole of cock meat -- going deep, deep, deeper than anyone ever had before and as each inch burrowed towards my womb, waves of sheer carnal pleasure exploded inside me, magnified by the knowledge and instinctual recognition of the flesh of my flesh melding with my flesh in incestuous union.

I buried my face against John's chest, feeling more than hearing his young heart pounding with excitement as he brutally thrust his cock into me again and again like an out of control jackhammer. He was a tight fit and the first dozen or so thrusts held pain as well as pleasure, but with each stroking visit of his cock, my pussy adapted and as the first waves of incestuous orgasm faded, I began to meet his thrusts, both of us like lust enraged beasts, locked in furious fucking.

In his excitement, John's cock slipped free, but before I could move to help him get inside me again, my son's thick prick found its own way back home, thrusting deep inside me, touching me in virgin places and I was quickly in the throes of an son induced orgasm again.

My son fucked me hard. My son fucked me sloppy. I knew without a doubt that it was his first time -- that he was completely without experience, moving awkwardly, barely doing anything more than following instincts and yet it was the most wondrous fuck of my life. Just feeling his cock sliding along, scraping my inner flesh with his penis -- the touch of my son's flesh upon mine, did things to my body that no-one, not even Dale at his most experienced and enthusiastic best, had ever done.

I clawed at him and clung to him, fingernails digging into his shoulders and my legs wrapped tight around his ass. Our bodies slapped together wetly as we became covered in fuck sweat. I could smell my own pussy, juices literally pouring forth as he moved back and forth in me -- my inner thighs becoming slippery and allowing him to somehow pound that lovely cock into me all the harder and faster. We kissed and bit at each other, his breath heavy on my neck and then my face before moving down at wrapping his lips around my swollen nipples. He sucked at my breast with gusto, reinforcing both my awareness of my son and long forgotten memories of nursing him and my sudden overpowering desire for him.

As my third massive orgasm swelled up inside of me, fueled by my son's big cock, I forgot all thoughts of my husband and daughter and let myself fall headlong into a well of incestuous lust -- never wanting this moment to end, desiring nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with my son's lovely penis buried deep inside me and knowing nothing more than I loved my son with ever fiber of my being. I began to scream incoherently, slamming myself against John's thrusts and then came the mother of all orgasms as I felt my son stiffen, thrust deep and almost go into convulsions as he emptied his balls into my pussy.

For long minutes, maybe hours, my word winnowed down to the hot, creamy semen filling my womb and to the big, pulsating cock buried inside of me -- making mother and son, simply man and woman. I was floating in a heavenly state -- the knowledge of this being incest only adding a delicious flavor to my bliss and I confess, not thinking or hoping that our illicit deed had saved Dale or Kim.

Our breathing slowed, our kisses became gentler and I had the last exquisite moments of orgasm as John slowly shrank and finally slipped from my pussy's grasp. He left me for just a few second, turning off the lights and the television and pulling a couch throw blanket over us. My last memories were of John's arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and warm in his arms as we both slipped into a well deserved sleep.

I awoke in the wee, darkest hours of the night, my son and I kissing, our bodies working sweetly together -- his penis, again hard and aroused, brushing along my thigh. Somehow, still entangled together, we made it to our feet and I led John up the stairs, still kissing and my hand wrapped tightly around his hard cock, leading him to his bedroom, shivering with delight as he tore the wispy remnants of my peignoir from me, his hands roaming hungrily over my body.

My son's room smelled as most teenaged boy's rooms do -- an earthy mix of sweat, food and semen and while a day ago the scent would have seemed mildly disgusting, it now inflamed my desires even more and I dragged my son onto the bed, spreading my legs wide and pulling him on top of me, thrusting my tongue into his mouth as he again thrust his wonderful cock into my steamy cunt.

I remember my wedding night with Dale -- giving up my virginity to him in a cheap motel, halfway between here and Key West. I remembered our honeymoon in that old resort town. I remember good sex and great sex during my life and the very best moments paled when compared to this night with my son.

I felt insatiable over the next few hours and my sweet, darling son met my needs in everyway -- staying erect as only a teenager can and making up what he lacked in experience with pure, unrestrained enthusiasm. This compounded by the undeniable fact that our being mother and son, brought us to new heights of sinful ecstasy, simply made this the most incredible lovemaking I have ever experienced.

As he began to fuck me for the second time that night, as our first long, passionate kiss ended, John looked into my eyes and groaned, "I want it all, Mom. I want to have it all." The urgency and the hunger in his voice, turned my insides into liquid napalm, inflaming me with the desire...the need to give myself to him completely.

Of course, we didn't do it all that night, but we did as much as we could, given the limits of the human body. I let my son take me from every position possible and while we began in relative darkness, I acquiesced to John's wishes to fuck with the lights on, flattered by his lustful and hungry stares as he explored my body.

My son had me moaning in orgasm while in the missionary position, my legs sometimes locked behind his hips and other times draped over his shoulders. John cupped and squeezed my titties, letting my meaty flesh bounce and jiggle in his fingers as I rode him, my head thrown back in sweet ecstasy, reveling in the feel of his swollen cock inside me. I think my son loved doing me doggie style the best, thrusting deep into from behind as he squeezed and pinched my swinging breasts, nipples long and erect, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him, kissing my neck and shoulders as we both watched ourselves fuck in the large mirror over the bedroom dresser.

That single image, me on my knees, John's left arm around my round belly and his right hand full of tit, just a hint of his cock buried in my cunt while he kissed my neck and my face, slack-jawed with pure lust and pleasure, is never far from my waking thoughts and I think will be burned into my consciousness for the rest of my life.

John came in me twice more that night, both times filling my womb with his hot, sweet sperm. In between, I sucked his cock, cleaning him of our mixed juices, reveling in how excited it made him to see his mother on her knees before him, revealed as a cum-hungry slut. To my delight, John was eager to explore my body, kneeling between my widespread legs, touching, kissing and licking my quivering, sensitive pussy, utterly fascinated by his mother's cunt. I marveled at his willingness to taste me, even with his thick, hot sperm oozing from me -- something his father had refused to do many times over the years.

Finally, exhausted in that good way that you get from earth-shattering sex, my son and I fell asleep in each other's arms as the first light of dawn began to creep through his bedroom window. My pussy was achy and sore -- unused to such attentions, my nipples tender and raw from being licked, sucked and bit -- even my tongue was tired from either being busy kissing John or sucking his cock. I was happy in a way I had never known I could be and I slept better than I can ever remember -- not thinking even once about Dale or Kim.

It was nearly noon when I awoke again, my head resting on John's chest, hand draped across his slightly doughy stomach, my thigh across his legs and his cock -- semi-erect nestled against my thigh. My son was deep asleep as I roused myself from incredibly erotic dreams and I lay there for a long time, watching him sleep, an angelic, childlike smile on his face. I could not believe the yearning I felt for him and despite my aching and weary body, I yearned to have him again.

I needed some nourishment first -- coffee and something to eat. Good sex always made me wake up hungry. Gently, so as not to wake John, I slipped from his bed and went quietly downstairs. Naked in the kitchen, I hummed happily to myself as I fixed an English Muffin and brewed some coffee and relived last night in my mind.

It was only then that I recalled everything and why I had done it. I was sorely tempted to call my husband and my daughter, but hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. In my heart, I believed that they were perfectly safe -- unharmed as I had completed my...seduction of my son. I sat down at the kitchen table and as I ate, considered all that had happened. Try as I might, I had to admit not feeling any guilt over what I had done.

In truth, my nipples hardened and swelled up at my memories of last night's...what should I call it -- my complete and utter incestuous debauchery with my son? As I remembered, I felt my labia begin to grow slick and my senses sharpened and I realized I could smell him and us on me. I reeked of sperm and pussy and spit and sweat and it made me wet all over again.

I was thinking of going back upstairs and awakening my son up and beginning right where we left off when the phone rang -- causing me to slosh coffee on the table, it startled me so.

I reached over and keyed the receiver and said, "Hello," knowing even before he spoke who it was.

"OH MY, CONNIE -- THAT WASN'T EVEN CLOSE, WAS IT? I THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE MORE OF A CHALLENGE FOR YOU! YOU HAD NEARLY AN HOUR STILL TO GO WHEN YOUR SON CLIMBED ON TOP OF YOU AND SANK THAT BIG COCK INSIDE YOU ON THE LIVING ROOM CARPET!"

I shivered at the washed out, almost mechanical voice and the confirmation that somehow he was watching everything we said and did. Even so, the fact that someone had witnessed my son and I fucking like cats in heat excited me in some awful way. I said, "I did what you asked. My husband and daughter...?"

"ARE SAFE AND SOUND AND AS HAPPY AS CAN BE. NO HARM WILL COME TO THEM."

"Thank God," I replied. "What happens now?"

"WHY, THAT'S UP TO YOU, CONNIE. IT SEEMED TO ME AS IF YOU TOOK MY ADVICE AND REALLY ENJOYED YOURSELF LAST NIGHT."

Silence on his end indicated that he wanted an answer. My mouth felt dry as I rasped, "Oh yes. I never imagined." My nipples swelled and I felt a ripple of desire course through my body, emanating outwards from my pussy as images of last night flashed through my mind.

There was amused chuckling coming from the other end of the phone line. I heard a snapping noise on the other end and then sounds of a woman moaning with great pleasure began. When I heard myself cry out, "Fuck me, baby! Fuck Momma good!" I realized that it was me being pleasured by John. Fear shot through me -- competing with my arousal and I somehow stammered, "So, what is this -- blackmail?"

My voice on the other end suddenly cut off, followed by silence and then he replied, "WHY NO, CONNIE. I'M OFFENDED AT THE SUGGESTION. MY PURPOSE ISN'T MONEY AND EXTORTION -- FAR FROM IT."

"What the fuck do you want then?" I snarled, feeling my fingers tighten around the phone receiver.

"I DID THIS FOR MY PLEASURE AND CURIOSITY, CONNIE," he answered. "YOU SHOULD FEEL PRIVELEGED -- YOU ARE MY FIRST PROJECT...AN EXPERIMENT, IF YOU WILL."

I was at a momentary loss for words and my caller took this as respectful attention and elaborated. "YOU SEE, CONNIE. I WANT TO SEE HOW FAR PEOPLE WILL GO FOR THOSE THEY LOVE -- WHAT WILL THEY BE WILLING TO DO IN ORDER TO SAVE THEIR LOVED ONES -- WHAT TABOOS THEY WOULD BREAK AND IN DOING SO, MAYHAP THEY WILL LEARN NEW THINGS ABOUT THEMSELVES AND ENJOY NEW AND HERETOFORE FORBIDDEN PLEASURES, JUST AS YOU HAVE...EXPERIENCED."

"And what happens next?" I whispered. In my mind I suddenly recalled news reports and headlines from the tabloids about "The Creep" who imprisoned family members together for periods of time -- many speculating that he was trying to drive them to commit incest. Some of the tabloids claimed to have proof that he had succeeded.

"THAT'S ENTIRELY UP TO YOU, MY DEAR. OUR BUSINESS IS CONCLUDED. WHAT YOU TAKE FROM IT IS UP TO YOU. MAY I ASK A QUESTION?"

I replied, "Yes."

"YOU'VE ALREADY ADMITTED TO ENJOYING HAVING COMMITTED INCEST WITH YOUR SON. HAVING TASTED THIS FORBIDDEN FRUIT, WILL YOU CONTINUE?"

Part of me wanted to say, "No -- of course not," but I knew that was a bald-face lie. I wanted more. I wanted my son right this moment! I knew there was no way I could give my son's cock up willingly. I took a deep breath and answered, "Yes, God help me, yes. I...I loved it. I love him."

Again my words were met with his evil chuckles. "I AM SO PLEASED FOR YOU. ENJOY HIM. ENJOY EACH OTHER."

I sensed he was about to hang up and I couldn't help but blurt out, "Tell me...are you the Creep?"

There was a pause and then he replied, "NO -- I ADMIRE WHAT I THINK IS HIS PHILOSOPHY, BUT MY METHODS AND MOTIVES ARE VERY DIFFERENT FROM HIS. FOR YOUR PURPOSES, YOU MAY CALL ME...THE FIEND."There was another pause and then he added, his electronic voice somehow full of malicious delight. "YOU'RE WASTING TIME, CONNIE. GO FUCK YOUR SON. FAREWELL."

Then I was holding a dead phone in my hand. I turned it off and set it down. I sat quietly for a time, lost in thought. I should have been worried about this man...this Fiend. I should have worried about how he was able to watch my every move and whether or not he would continue to spy on John and me. Maybe I should have been concerned about how easily he'd manipulated me into fucking my son. But, none of that concerned me. I had only one overriding thought.

I stood and quickly went back upstairs. I paused in the doorway of my son's room, inhaling the strong scent of pussy and cum. I admired John's naked body, blankets kicked off and his cock, still half-erect, between his legs. I moved to the bed and eased myself up, lying down between his thighs and taking my son's cock in hand, gently kissed it and began licking it like the sweetest lollipop I'd ever had.

"Wake up, son," I whispered softly. "Momma needs you. Momma needs her boy's big cock."

And happily, my son did wake up and he made love to me and he fucked me and he made me his. For three years now, my son and I have carried on this incestuous affair, both of us reveling in our love for each other. Dale is totally oblivious and if Kim suspects, she has kept it to herself. As I said when I began my story, I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but I love it...God help me, but I do love my son's cock so. I'm not sure why the "Fiend" did what he did and to be honest, I don't care, but if I could, I would thank him with all my heart. If he still watches us, I hope the sinful display of John fucking his mother is thanks enough.
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The End
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