Incest/Taboo The Mom Memories

I gathered another small handful of popcorn without twisting around and we sat like that, Nathan staring at my body, and me pretending I was unaware, slowly popping single pieces of popcorn into my mouth while the warmth in my panties increased. Looking down along my body toward the TV, I could see that my pantied mound was swollen. I was more than ready for action and I could detect the faint aroma that would have signaled my pliant state to a more experienced partner. I had to put a stop to this, now.

When the commercials started, I sat up and turned toward my son.

"Nathan, I want to talk to you about your plans after school ends." I just blurted it out, surprising myself as much as he. He was taken aback and struggled for words. He looked away and I realized that in my haste, my robe had fallen wide open and completely off my left breast.

"Don't look away, Nathan. I want to talk to you. I know it's been bothering you."

I reached over to turn his face toward me but he resisted.

"But Mom," he protested, his eyes straying down to glance at my exposed tit and then away again.

"Don't worry about that. I'm your mother. It doesn't matter if you see me like that."

Nevertheless, I pulled the robe over to cover my breast.

"There, Mr. Prude," I laughed. "Now we can talk." I pulled his face toward me again, this time succeeding. "Now tell me. Are you planning on going away so you don't have to work for your father?"

Nathan's eyes widened.

"Don't look so surprised. Your father may not realize you don't want to work in the business but I'm your mother and I know what you're thinking."

His eyes widened even more, perhaps thinking that maybe I knew what he'd been thinking for the past half hour.

"I know you don't want to do what your father does," I added, mostly to assure him I was talking about what he was going to do this summer rather than our movie watching behavior, but also to avoid recognition that I was also aware of what had just transpired.

Nathan recovered himself, acknowledging that he was indeed worried about his father wanting him to work for him, that he didn't know how to tell him, and that he would probably do it rather than get into a fight, or leave.

Nonsense, I told him. "You have to stand up for yourself. This is your future."

"But you know how Dad is," he replied, turning his eyes down. "You know what he's like."

I did know. Mark was bellicose and persistent, rarely taking no for an answer. I noticed that Nathan was again looking at my left breast. Glancing down, I saw that the robe had fallen back and half my breast was exposed, the lapel clinging perilously to my nipple, partly distended from the rapt attention it had been receiving.

"I know," I sympathized, reaching out with my right hand to pull his head toward me and tilting it down so he could look without fear of being caught. "But this is your life. You can't just give in."

I raised my left hand to cup his cheek. I don't know if it was this action or the extra tweak my nipple felt from his renewed attention, but the robe fell away, leaving my left breast fully exposed.

"Mom ..."

He might have been trying to tell me but I cut him off.

"I'll help you. I'll talk to your father. I'll make him understand."

"Thanks Mom," he mumbled. I could tell he was barely listening to me, his attention elsewhere.

"But you have to promise me you won't take off after school's over."

I stroked the back of his head, keeping his gaze upon me though he needed no encouragement. As I lifted my right hand to stroke his hair, I could see that my right breast began to show itself too, poking out and hiding with each movement of my arm.

"Will you promise to stay home with me, no matter what happens?" I asked. As I said this, I realized just how important it was to have Nathan stay. My voice swelling with emotion, I pulled his face to my breast.

"Promise me," I asked. "Promise me," I demanded.

"I promise," his muffled voice came back.

I relaxed my arms. I had pulled Nathan tightly to me, pressing his face into my breast as the fear of losing him swept over me. As he pulled his head back, I realized that I had pulled his mouth right onto my bare breast, just above my extended nipple. His eyes were glued to it as he drew back, as if he'd never seen one before.

"It's important for you to stay," I reiterated, my voice charged with motherly emotion. "Your father hasn't been much of a companion these past few years. You know that, don't you."

Nathan nodded, his eyes still focused on my bare breast. He became aware that he was staring at my bare tit and tried to turn away, blushing.

"Mom ..."

"Don't worry about that. Don't let it bother you. It doesn't bother me." I pulled his head forward again, tilting his face toward me. "Will you stay?" I asked.

Nathan looked at my breast for a long minute, then turned his gaze up to hold my eyes. "I'll stay, Mom. I promise."

Love welled up inside me. I pulled my son to me and hugged him, kissed his cheeks and then kissed him on his lips, on his mouth. He was visibly shocked, but not horrified.

"Did that surprise you?" I asked, laughing.

"Yeah," he replied, laughing as well, nervously.

"Me too," I laughed.

Nathan laughed again, more relaxed this time.

"Let's celebrate with some wine."

I got up and rushed into the kitchen, opening a bottle of Merlot and bringing two glasses with me. Nathan had moved to the end of the couch so I set the glasses down on the table beside him and poured the wine. My robe was still untied and I made no effort to keep it closed as I filled the glasses, keeping my eyes on the wine so he could look if he wanted. When I finished I handed him a glass and, taking one myself, sat on the couch beside him, pulling my legs up and leaning my knees toward him.

"A toast to our pact," I said. "Us against Dad."

Clink. We sipped our wine.

"Oh, the movie's over," I observed.

"But another one's probably starting. Do you want to watch another?" Nathan asked.

"Yeah," I answered, parodying his typically disinterested response to my queries.

Nathan laughed and handed me the remote. "You pick," he said.

"You trust a mere woman to operate this?" I asked with feigned incredulity.

"Sure," he smiled.

I took the remote and pulled his arm over my shoulder, leaning further toward him as I flipped through the channels. Settling on a movie, I put the remote down and stretched across Nathan, turning my back so I was laying almost flat on my back with my head resting on the arm, facing the TV. My robe was still untied and open but it covered my breasts.

We watched in silence, not even speaking during the commercials. Nathan offered me a sip of his wine and I tilted my head forward to drink. As the movie progressed, we finished his glass and then the rest of mine but Nathan didn't refill either glass. My robe gradually fell open and though it didn't fall completely away, I knew that Nathan could probably see much of my breasts and probably the nipple on the left one.

I didn't care. My mind was in a strange place and I was thoroughly enjoying laying on my son's lap, partially naked, warmed by the glow of wine, and other things. I closed my eyes and stretched several times through the next set of commercials, and I knew the exact moment that the robe fell completely off my left breast. I kept my eyes closed but stopped stretching. I lay there, satisfied and happy that my son was looking at my naked breast, knowing that his eyes were sliding down my bare tummy to my panties. I could feel them resting there, caressing the mound pushing up under the now dampish cotton.

I was excited and it was all I could do not to touch myself. I could feel my son's rise, could feel the thickening expansion of the thing he'd been hiding under the popcorn bowl until it pressed between my shoulder blades. I shifted my back, pressing down, repeating several times as the movie continued. Sometime during before the next commercial break, Nathan rested his hand on my tummy and began stroking my hair with his other one. I kept my eyes closed, afraid to break the spell, loving the feel of his fingers as they moved in a small circle on my tummy, around my navel where it pouted up, just above my panties.

As the commercials ended I spoke, voicing a notion that had just occurred to me.

"You know, it might not be that bad to work with your Dad. You don't have to be him, you know. You could do it your own way. Maybe not at first, but eventually."

"Mom," Nathan's voice was equally quiet but stretched my name out into a long sound.

"He'd probably get you to take over the local stuff so he could focus on out of state sales. You know how he likes to travel, to be away from home."

Nathan's hand stopped. I wiggled my back, rubbing on his hidden fellow which hadn't retreated.

"That feels good. Don't stop."

Nathan's fingers began tickling my tummy again but in a wider circle. I don't know if he was following a new path because of the interruption or if he felt encouraged by my explicit acknowledgement of his caress and my appreciation of it. It didn't matter, it felt good, and so did the knowledge that I was clearly pleasing him.

"It might not be a bad idea for you to take on your father's responsibilities at home."

The movie started then and I turned my head toward the TV. The sound of my words echoed in my head. 'Take on your father's responsibilities at home'. I was talking about work but the words were loaded, especially in the current context. I smiled to myself. Was I in the twilight zone?

I was lost in my own thoughts for awhile, not sure what, but I suddenly became aware that Nathan's fingers had been traveling in an ever widening circle and he was now brushing over the top of my panties and pressing up against the bottom of my bare breasts, even nudging them up from my chest. I noticed that my right breast was bare now. Had he done that? He was hard in my back. Should I stop this? All I had to do was get up, say I was tired, and go to bed.

But I didn't. The commercials started again and I closed my eyes. His hand never paused, it kept up its loving caress over my tummy, scraping along the bottom swell of both breasts, dipping down to stroke along my waist, then up and over my panties, always above the rise to my mound but I could feel him there. Every time his fingers came close, it was almost as if he were touching me. Geez, I needed to stop this.

And then he began to caress my face. His fingers trailed across my forehead, draining any tensions held there, then down my cheek and across my lips and chin and around again, down to cross my neck but the next time across my lips again. It felt wonderful. I felt so sexy and I relished it. When was the last time a man had spent so much time trying to make me feel good?

I turned toward the TV at the sound of the movie starting again. My cheek pressed on Nathan's hand and his fingers curled around to cup my mouth. His fingers continued their caress on my torso. I closed my eyes as his finger nestled in to rest along the 'V' between my lips.

I must have dozed because when I opened my eyes again the movie was over and a different show was playing on the TV. Something felt strange. It was my mouth. Nathan's finger had bent and the tip was now in my mouth. Had I sucked it in or had he pushed it inside? I had no idea.

Then I had another shock. Nathan's fingers, the other ones, were still swirling around on my tummy. They were sliding up my waist toward the bottom of my breasts where they had been brushing by and as they approached, I felt myself tense in delighted anticipation. They came, pushed up against the weighty swell of my lower tit, then swept up and over, each finger brushing across my hugely distended nipple which flicked through them like a pick across the strings of a guitar.

Then his palm pushed my nipple over and slid down, rubbing through the valley between my breasts and up the slope onto my right tit where it replayed the same tune, strumming across that equally stiff nipple. As his hand slid down the cliff to my tummy his fingers dragged behind and just before they too slid over the precipice, they squeezed together and pinched my nipple, tugging it down before letting it spring back, vibrating like a stiff tong on a tuning fork. A matching feeling vibrated through me.

I had barely recovered my senses when I felt my son's hand brushing over my panties. It no longer seemed hesitant or afraid and continued its downward sweep until his fingers bumped across my puffy mound, pausing for a light squeeze when they fully covered my little mountain. I felt myself pulse against his cupping fingers and knew I was wet. Oh God! How long had this been going on?

I was in shock. I didn't know what to do. It would be so awkward to stop him now. I couldn't just get up and walk away. I would have to confront him about feeling me up. Unless he stopped. Yes. Maybe he'd quit and I could pretend to wake up and not know what had happened.

I lay still. His hand swept over me, teasing my nipples, squeezing and tugging, then down and over my panties, pausing to squeeze my mound, to feel me push back against him in appreciation, a reaction I couldn't stop. He moved his finger in my mouth when I did that and I couldn't help closing my lips and pressing my tongue along the length of his finger.

I don't know how many times I let him do that before I realized that he wasn't going to stop. He was eighteen and he had a half naked woman laying in his lap, letting him fondle her tits and stroke her panties. He wouldn't stop if we were hit by lightning. Only if his father came home. That would do it. Where the hell was Mark?

Another dozen circles. I was so very horny. This couldn't go on. I had to do something. As his hand dragged down my tit for the umpteenth time and approached my panties, I spoke.

"Nathan, what are you doing?"

His hand paused for only a second, and then continued.

"Taking on my home responsibilities," he replied calmly.

"Nathan, I didn't mean ..."

I didn't finish. Nathan's hand slid over my mound and squeezed. I pushed up against him. I just couldn't stop myself. Immediately, instead of going on as he had before, he pushed his hand down between my legs, cupping the entire front of my panties, then began rubbing quickly up and down, pausing to press in hard, then relaxing and starting to rub me again. My hips moved, rocking my pussy against my son's hand. When his hand paused to press against me, his thumb stretched up to flick across my clit, and then dragged down between the furrow of my lips, as his fingers, bunched together, tried to push inside me through my panties.

I was so wet. I thrust my hips up hard against his rubbing hand, groaning out loud. His finger was moving back and forth in my mouth and my lips closed over it as if I was sucking a small cock. He was rubbing hard and fast now and I was fucking his hand, all sensibility gone, overwhelmed with the feeling of an impending orgasm rocketing around inside my pussy, getting ready to explode through my body. My back arched and I lifted my ass off the couch, only touching with my head and my heels.

"I'm cumming," I yelled, my cry muffled by his finger which was expelled from my mouth allowing the sound of my orgasm to echo through the house. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaahhhhhh!"

I fell back to the couch but my hips continued their frantic thrusting, clamping my son's hand in the vise of my clenched thighs. Slick as they were, there was no way he could have pulled his hand out even if he wanted to. Slowly, my orgasm began to subside and I loosened my legs, releasing his hand but he kept it there, not moving it, just holding it against me.

When I could, I spoke calmly. "I shouldn't have let you do that, shouldn't have encouraged you. I'm sorry, Nathan. I don't what came over me." I crossed my forearm over my eyes to hide my shame.

"I wanted to, Mom."

"It was wrong, Nathan. It wasn't your fault. It was wrong of me. I won't let it happen again."

"But I want to do it again."

"No, Nathan. It can't happen again."

"But you ...," He paused, as if searching for a way to say something in a nicer way, then continued. "You really needed it."

I laughed at that. I couldn't help it. It was so true. "I know, Nathan. It's just been so long, but it's still wrong."

"But you shouldn't have to go without, just because of Dad." He almost spat his father's name out.

"I can't. Not with you."

"But you said ..."

"That's not what I meant." Wasn't it? Could I be certain the thought hadn't crossed my mind?

"Nathan, let me go now. Let me get up."

He was still holding me, his hand still gripping my panties, the other holding my head. He squeezed me when I said that.

"Not until you promise we can do it again."

"I can't promise that, Nathan." His hand was squeezing.

"Then at least say it won't never happen again."

"I can't say that either." Squeezing, squeezing. I had to get up soon.

"You have to say one or the other."

He was playing for time, softly squeezing my pussy, trying not to draw attention to what he was doing, delaying, hoping I'd eventually change my mind when I couldn't help it anymore. I knew what he was doing.

"No, Nathan. Now let me go." I tried feebly to lift my head.

"Then kiss me like you did before we had the wine."

"What?"

"Kiss me like you did before, on my lips."

"Will you let me up then?" He was still squeezing, squeezing, and I found myself almost wanting to drag it out a little longer too.

"Yes. But it has to be a long kiss."

He was a natural negotiator. He'd probably do well in his father's business. Squeeze, squeeze.

"Alright," I said.

Immediately his head lowered and his lips pressed against mine. Right away, his hand started to rub my pussy, no longer content to just squeeze. What the hell, I thought. After what I'd let him do, what was a little more rubbing through one kiss? And it felt so good. He had more than one natural talent, or did genetic relatives instinctively know how to touch one another?

Rub, rub, rub. His lips worked against mine. Softly, gently. I loved the way he kissed, much better than his father. I almost forgot about him rubbing my pussy. But not quite. The kiss ended.

"Ok, Nathan. Let me ...,"

His lips took hold of mine again, engaging me in another kiss. The rubbing stopped. Ok, I thought. Let's kiss a while. That kiss was longer than the first but I didn't protest when he started another as soon as it ended. After all, he had stopped rubbing me, though his hand was still there. I lost myself in his lips. By the time the kiss ended he had stretched his long finger along my lower lips and wiggled it in, pressing my panties between them. He had started rubbing me again.

"Nathan ...,"

"Shhhhhh," he whispered, taking my lips again and rubbing me harder. He kissed me hard then and at some point, his tongue must have slipped inside because I suddenly realized that I was pushing his tongue out of me and forcing my own between his lips. That moaning sound was me I realized with a small shock. So what, I thought as I resisted his tongue pushing mine back and shoving itself into my mouth again. I clamped my legs around his hand to stop it from pulling away.

"Just once more," he gasped.

"Yeah," I answered.

His tongue filled my mouth again.

OMG, I was so wet. What was that? His hand was inside my panties, rubbing my bare pussy. No! That's too far. Oh god. So good. So good.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," I cried as his finger slipped inside me, sloshed about for a few seconds, then started fucking into me.

"Oh Nathan. Oh Nathan," I cried, moaning his name.

Thicker. He'd put another finger in me and was working it in and out, in and out, quickly, feverishly. That was ok. That was fine by me. I moaned again as I quickly matched his thrusts with my own hip movements, fucking my son's hand. Where was my shame?

"Oh, god. Nathan. Finger me," I cried, bucking my hips frantically now, that recently familiar feeling starting to well up inside me again. "Please, please," I cried.

Wham. It fired through me, more intense this time. My legs quivered as I thrust my hips up from the couch, thighs straining to hold myself high to keep him inside me. Nathan dug his fingers into me, slipping yet another inside and shaking his hand, as if he was trying to loosen yet another orgasm from me.

I collapsed to the couch. This time, I got up, gathered my robe about me, and walked quietly away, upstairs to my room. I didn't even shower. I just got into bed and curled into a ball until fell asleep.
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