Incest/Taboo House for Sons and Mothers

"I told you. It depends on how much they need to discuss."

"I meant, how long for the tea to steep?"

Michael pulled his mother toward him, banging her shoulder into his side in a quick hug and then let his arm slip down onto her upper arm.

"Oh, not much more than a few minutes, I suppose."

"Then it isn't really worth sitting down, is it."

"I guess not."

Michael started to withdraw his hand but then slipped it around his mother's waist. In reaction, she squeezed her arm to her side, pinching her son's hand against her breast.

"What do you think they're talking about?"

"What they always talk about—the house."

Michael wiggled his fingers, tickling the side of Joan's breast.

"Michael."

"I know, I know."

Michael let his hand drop away from his mother's breast, sliding down along the inner curve of her waist.

"I don't know how they can talk so much about this old house."

"You know how much your father likes to talk."

"And Grandma's a good listener."

"I guess so."

Michael's hand was back on his mother's hip and sliding down the outside. By the time she spoke, it was back on her buttock, happily plastered over the curve of her cheek.

"A mother should listen when her son wants to talk," he said.

"Is that right?"

"Of course."

"I have some things I want to talk to you about," Joan warned.

Michael moved his hand, polishing the warm, firm buttock under the thin material of his mother's summer skirt. He looked down, loving the way the material fell into the crevice between her buttocks, defining the shape of the ass he loved to look at. He had admired this ass for years from afar until that day when, only months before, he had first dared to touch it, right here in this house.

He had been so scared and couldn't believe he had actually done it. His mother had frozen, standing rigidly still, which had made her buttocks tense, a simple action that almost made her son come in his pants. For his part, Michael was immobile, frozen in fear, and couldn't pull his hand away despite the fact that his father was in the living room having tea with his grandmother. Joan finally twisted away and Michael's hand had slid off his mother's ass.

She didn't say a word to him about it and two weeks later, he put his hand on her ass again. This time he was talking to her while she was baking at home, telling her about his day at school, and happened to look down at his mother's ass. The skirt shimmied as she rolled a pastry back and forth, and clung to the crack between her cheeks. His father was due home any minute but Michael succumbed to the sudden urge to feel his mother's cheek again and gently cupped her ass.

Joan didn't freeze this time. She didn't know what to do so she pretended nothing was happening, thinking her son would pull his hand away. It was just a phase, she thought, but Michael didn't pull away and the longer she let his hand stay the more she realized it was too late to acknowledge it was there because how could she explain why it took her so long to tell him to move it? So she let it stay and pretended it wasn't there, even when Michael began to rub it, to move his fingers over its entire expanse, and even pushed the forward edge of his hand into her crack, and squeezed.

Somehow he managed to keep talking, droning on and on about various conversations he'd had with his friends and getting side-tracked into stories about things they had done the past few weeks. He even confessed to things he had done, like trying to smoke. He babbled on about anything because the more he filled the air the more he was able to fondle his mother's ass. By the time Nate's car pulled into the driveway, both of Michael's hands were plying the pleasures of his mother's ass and she was responding to a glow that had spread throughout her loins.

Michael tried to repeat this experience the next day but Joan shut him down right away. It was a week later that he tried again but this time Nate was home, sitting in the living room, and Joan couldn't stop her persistent son without causing a fuss that could be heard and would require an explanation. So she suffered through her son's unwanted advance, waiting for her husband to get up, but he didn't and eventually the glow spread through her pelvis again and the touch wasn't so unwanted anymore.

She knew Michael sensed it. A small movement or two and a softening gave her away. She felt rather than saw him smile, felt it in the way he squeezed her buttock, more slowly and confidently, self-assured. He chuckled softly and spoke in a soothing voice though Joan couldn't make out the words. She was startled to realize her son was rubbing the back of her panties. Somehow, Michael had managed to bunch up her skirt without her realizing and was holding it by her left hip while his right hand explored her panties and delved between her legs.

"Michael!" she gasped.

"Shhhhh," he cautioned, the mumbling additional reassuring words.

The glow was beginning to burn and though she willed herself to move, she didn't. Michael's hand pushed further between her legs, then twisted, palm up. His fingers slithered along the bottom of her pussy and curled up until the longest finger found and fit into her groove. As the pad of his finger pressed in the dampness the glowing ember in her groin burst into flame. Joan clutched the counter to keep from falling as her knees buckled.

"Ohhhhhhh."

"Sshhhhh, Mom. It's okay, it's okay."

Michael's hand rubbed back and forth.

"Unnnghhhh."

"Shhhhh, Mom."

Michael's hand clamped over her mouth and the one between her legs withdrew, slithering back, pressing, as if reluctant to lose touch with its new-found treasure.

Thank god, he's stopping, Joan thought, relieved and disappointed at the same time.

Michael's hand slid up onto Joan's ass and then higher onto the bare skin of her back but then slipped down, under her panties and curved around until he was cupping her bare pussy.

No, no, Joan thought, but then Michael's finger delved between her lips and pushed into her pussy which was now so wet, so very, very wet.

"Unnghhhh."

"Shhhhhh."

Finger pushing way in, curling and twisting, pulling out, then back in, twisting, twisting.

"Unghhhhh."

"Shhhhh, Mom. Please."

Finger in and out, squishing. Michael's head pushing into her back, forcing her further over the counter, hand muffling her cries, fingers thickening inside her.

He's got two in me, maybe more. Oh God, it feels so good, so hot. How can he feel this good. I've never felt anything like it. Why? Why does it feel so good?"

Michael fingered his mom to her first incestuous orgasm while her husband watched the news, pleased that his son and his mother were starting to bond after a half dozen difficult teenage years. One day, he thought, in a year or two, he might be able to bring them even closer together.

Michael was at his mother two days later and again the following day. A week later, Joan told her son he couldn't touch her again while his father was in the house because it was too dangerous. Michael was taking outrageous chances, feeling his mother up and even fingering her whenever his father left the room. He even tried to slip his hand under her skirt while sitting beside is mother on the couch and his father was sitting in his chair watching TV. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Joan let Michael feel her up and rub himself on her ass when he came home from school. She let him finger her while he dry humped her from behind until Nate came home. But while Nate was in the house, no tomfoolery was allowed.

So here they were, not at home but in Nate's mother's house and Michael's hands on her ass were feeling good. Already, he had slipped them inside her dress. Joan began to protest but Michael cut her off, calming her as he always did with soothing inanities.

"The tea isn't steeped yet, Mom."

"It's not?"

"No."

"How much longer do you think it will be?"

"A while," Michael said.

He was slipping her panties down to the middle of her thighs. She had been allowing this for some time now, to make it easier for him to get his fingers inside her. If felt so good when he had free and open access, to get her legs spread wide. He was so good with his fingers and his slender hand, filling her until she felt she would explode from pure pleasure.

He was sliding several fingers inside her now and Joan couldn't give a shit about the tea anymore. Her husband was upstairs, talking to his mother. Christ, he should have married her, he spent so much time with her. She didn't even feel jealous anymore. She had her son and he loved her.

Joan pushed herself up on her tippy toes. She knew Michael liked that because it made her muscles tense up and that made her legs look prettier. Also, she knew, it made Michael think he was really getting to her, which he was, and that excited him. Soon, he would start rubbing his hardon against her bare ass. She had been letting him push his pants down lately because his hard cock felt warmer and harder when it was covered only by his shorts and not his jeans.

Oh, God. His hand was filling her. So good, so very, very good. She looked up toward the ceiling.

I hope you're having a nice chat with your perfect mother, Nate. Your son and I are talking too.

She laughed but it turned into a throaty chortle. As if on cue, Nate grabbed her hair and kept her head up. He had starting doing that two times ago and Joan found that she liked it. She knew it pleased him and it excited her when he expressed manly confidence, making her do things, knowing she would let him if he simply held her in place.

Okay, start that twisting motion I like so much. Show me how dexterous your hand is, my son.

Instead Michael's hand suddenly withdrew and she gasped as emptiness engulfed her pussy but then his hands cupped her cheeks and spread them.

Oh God, he's going to tease me again, she thought as her son tapped her asshole with the tip of his index finger.

She was surprised that she liked it so much but didn't want to let Michael know because then he would push it all the way in and she was sure she wouldn't like that. Worrying about her butt, Joan was taken completely by surprise when her son's blunt instrument invaded the normal path previously explored and loosened by his hand. He was able to plunge completely in, burying the full extent of his cock in his mother's quivering cunt.

"Oh, God. Michael!"

Michael quickly withdrew butt then slammed his cock back in, hard, rocking his mother forward.

"Michael!" Joan gasped.

Bang, bang, bang. Michael rattled his mother's cheeks again and again.

"I'm fucking you, Mom," he hissed. "This is the way it's going to be."

Bang, bang, bang.

Joan eased futher onto the counter, bending over to better accommodate her son's bludgeoning pole. Michael relaxed his grip on her hair and let her head fall gently on the surface and concentrated on the urgent task at hand. He had surprised himself. He didn't know what had come over him but the sudden urge to push his cock into his beautiful mother's cunt was irrepressible. He just had to do it, no matter what she said, no matter where his father was. It was fantastic! He hadn't dreamt she could feel so good and he knew he would never tire of having her. Never, ever!

Joan could feel her orgasm building already and knew it was going to be a big one, the best she'd ever had. Already it was so intense she was seeing stars. No, they were lights, pink and green, racing around her head. She felt wonderful but knew she should make her son stop, just as she knew it was wrong to let him feel her up, to rub his cock on her ass, and put his fingers inside her. But somehow, in this house where she had first let Michael touch her ass, she recognized in her heart that she knew this would eventually happen, that she would let her son fuck her.

And, so what? She loved her son and she loved the feel of his cock pounding into her. Later, she would show him how to be a gentle lover but now she just loved the raw energy of his desperate love. No man had ever wanted her like this, needed her like this, and Joan knew that nobody else ever would.

Give me more. Give me everything.

She threw her ass back at her son and wiggled her hips to let him know that it was alright, that she could take it, that she wanted it, right now, right here, in her husband's precious mother's house. Any way he wanted. To hell with gentle. That could come later.

"Fuck me, Michael," she gasped. "Fuck me hard," she urged.

"Shhhh, Mom."

"Don't…unhhh…shush me."

Michael pulled his mother's head up again and pushed his thumb into her ass. Lights blazed around Joan's head and Michael blinked but they were gone a second later. Joan cried out as her son wiggled his thumb in her ass and her orgasm exploded over her, erupting again when his spunk spewed forth. Michael stopped thrusting but his cock still throbbed inside her.

Joan lay limp on the counter, kept upright only by the grip of her son's hands on her hips. She was too exhausted to get up. She wasn't worried. Michael would listen for his father and she could pull up her panties and straighten her skirt in a few seconds. Anyway, she needed to catch her breath.

That was the most incredible fuck! Maybe I won't teach him to be gentle yet.

She chuckled but then moaned as Michael's cock started gently sliding in an out of her pussy again. He pushed in and out of her in long strokes, rotating his hips so his shaft cold explore every inch of her cunt, he gorgeous mother cunt.

Joan groaned, "We don't have time, Michael."

"Just until he comes downstairs."

"And then what?"

Joan didn't realy care. His cock felt so fucking good.

"And then we'll go home and go to bed."

Harder shoves.

"And then," Michael continued, "you'll get up and come to me so we can do more of this."

He banged his cock into her hard half a dozen times and Joan knew that was exactly what she would do.
​

*****​

I sensed the presence of others. Some were like my grandfather, shunned, but more were like myself and Mom, and Dad and Grandma, revived by the new vitality inhabiting the old house. Lightning flashes of old, old memories, not my own, burned fleetingly through my mind and I knew that, when there was no live action to be observed, I wouldn't be bored, not in this house.​