Incest/Taboo Wash Me

But it was impossible. I drew it away from me and looked around to see how mom was handling all of this. But she wasn't even in the bathroom. I saw a trail of wet footprints, noticed her towel was off the rack, heard her footsteps moving down the hall.

I was way, way too freaked out to follow. Even if I wanted to follow her, all the way to her room.

To her bed.

Suddenly it all became very real. The idea that mom wanted it. The idea that it was possible, that it could happen, that maybe if I went to her room right now that there was a chance she'd want to do it too, if I went to her and pressed her against her sheets, she could spread her gorgeous, long legs and--

I slapped myself and tried to regain my composure.

It got cold in the bathroom way too quickly.

The next morning, mom went to work before I could even get up. All I knew had changed, based on everything that happened yesterday. My relationship with my mom was likely over, not even in the idea that I had overstepped my boundaries -- the simple fact was mom had too. It was out in the open.

My mother stroked my cock last night. Was I dreaming? This kind of thing never happened. No mothers would willingly touch their adult sons, not like that. Not for so long. Not with that much interest.

The thought of how her hands felt sent my erection straight up, pulsing, my hips involuntarily pushing forward as if her hands were still there.

It was so hard to go to work.

Between the snow and the intense sense of dread, all I could think about was the feeling of her hands, slick with shampoo, and what I was going to have to do to adjust to all the changes that had happened.

Obviously, I had to move. Even though my mother had touched my cock last night, the simple fact was that no family relationship was going to survive that. To spare us some semblance of personal dignity, the right thing to do was to leave and never, ever come back. Could I even stay in this town?

Clearly, the fact that I was connected to my mom through my employer was an issue that had to be remedied. I envisioned telling my employer that I was quitting -- I wondered if he'd laugh at me if I said it was for 'personal reasons' and if I'd get blackballed from the industry.

I guessed it was time to move to a totally different state. Or to Mexico. Away from my lovely, sexy mom. Sweet fuck, this was so messed up.

The day went by in a blur of anxiety.

The drive home was worse. Every mile closer to home was a ratcheted increase in heartrate. Maybe, if I was lucky, mom wouldn't be home and I could pack and disappear before she even saw me.

But I wasn't lucky.

Her car was parked in the driveway. The pit in my stomach deepened as I parked, trying to figure out how I could quickly dip into my room, shove my most important stuff into a few old bags, and then disappear. Maybe if she was feeling half as embarrassed as I was then she would--

The door opened.

Mom was standing in the doorway, looking at me with an expression I could only describe as... warm. Not emotionally warm. As in temperature, warm. Embarrassed, maybe, but she was definitely very bothered about something, the color in her cheeks was there, her chest was moving with shallow, anxious breaths, her hands smoothing along the front of her legs.

Was she just trying to summon the courage to talk about this? Maybe since mom was a go-getter, power player she would somehow find a way we could put this behind us. Sanely.

Maybe.

The way she looked made it doubtful.

"Hey," she said, as I closed the car door. "Let's talk."

Oh boy.

We were inside, sitting at the kitchen table, trying to settle ourselves. Mom's hands were folded tightly on the surface, her fingers nervously intertwining continuously while she tried to sit up straight, to maintain her characteristic, stoic, businesslike attitude.

"Well," she said, words failing her. They didn't fail her often, if ever. Everything that had happened in the last few days must have been a lot, and how the hell could it not be?

I pressed against my mom in the shower. Then she stroked my cock. And we liked it. After days of trying to suppress it, ignore it, justify it, to try to hide it or accept it as natural, anything but embracing it, the way we touched yesterday evaporated all of it and left us with the stark realization that maybe, just maybe, we wanted each other much more intimately than a kid and his mom should.

Mom cleared her throat. As if that would wipe away everything, but it was obvious. What we did was way, way too much to ignore.

"I'm sorry," I broke in before she could formulate anything. "I didn't mean to get close. I just... I wasn't thinking, and it was my fault we're in this awkward... thing." I hoped my explanation could smooth things over, but mom seemed about as embarrassed as ever.

"I'm sorry too," she said, trying to keep her tone even. "Obviously we... overstepped a boundary. We don't need to say what it was but," she swallowed, "I think we can just understand each other. It'll help us process this and maybe move forward." She nodded before continuing, her cheeks pinkening, her eyes squinting shut as she tried to put the words in an order that made sense. "I guess I didn't realize, on my part, that I've been... you know... when you don't date for a while, and you forget that a girl just needs some... and I didn't know I wanted to... well. I've just been... thinking about... You get what I'm saying, right?"

Her words, despite being so halting and uncertain, hit me as if they were a truck. A girl just needs some... what? She's wanted to... to do what?

What else could she have been talking about? Instead of creating some kind of closure about this, it only made my head spin. Even if she didn't say it completely, she admitted that she was thinking about something, she was wanting something, needing something.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at me, blushing hard. My own mom, blushing, looking distressed by something happening between her legs. It wasn't the look of a person looking for understanding. I already understood. I understood about the hard red of the blush in her cheeks. About the way she was breathing, embarrassed.

I nodded. "Yeah," I said, trying to keep my own voice even. "I get it."

"Do you..." her voice was small now. "Do you want... to come with me to the bathroom? So, we can, well," she gave a small swallow, her eyes held on mine. "...so, we can shower?"

There was a long silence. Longer than I wanted it to be. But I couldn't respond, not after that.

My mom had just asked it of me.

I could feel my cock aching against my pants, pulsing with intensity and strength, demanding that I say yes.

Mom had just asked me, after everything we had gone through, if I would come with her, right now. To undress. To be naked with each other. To get close all over again.

To risk what we had done, all over again.

Of course, I wanted to.

I didn't nod, but I stood up. Without hesitation. The air felt different. Mom stood too, and we went toward the bathroom. She passed by me through the open door, the smell of her perfume wafting past me, the scent of yesterday's shampoo still lingering, making my heart skip.

Then we were in the bathroom together. Facing the shower, standing side by side. Mom's hands were around herself, her hands squeezing her arms. She was staring ahead, trying not to look at me. Both of us had to have been so uncertain, not sure about the wordless agreement, the way we both were here, both wanting something from the other. The way we said nothing to each other, the way we wouldn't name the unthinkable thing.

The thing we both wanted.

But here we were.

No denying it now.

Mom turned toward me, her eyes drifting down my chest, her lip caught in a little uncertain bite. Then her gaze went back to the shower, as if she was doing something very wrong by looking at her son.

I took off my belt. Mom closed her eyes at the sound of the buckle falling to the ground. Then opened them as her hands went upward to the edges of her pants. She started with the button in the center of her waist. I could hear it flicking free. Then the slight metallic sound of her zipper. Her fingers, pinched together, traced down her pelvis and then ended where her legs began. Where underneath, she hid herself. Something I could only imagine as wet.

My hands went down my shirt buttons. The shirt disappeared to the ground as mom slipped her thumbs to her sides and started to pull downward. Her pants rolled slowly down.

Milky, white skin. Legs so silky and smooth, I wanted to run my tongue up and down her soft, hairless thighs.

Panties. Mom's panties.

Red silk.

A little slope below her waist, where her cunny was clothed in the deeply scarlet silk of her underwear.

Mom's cunny.

My mother's legs that went on forever.

My heart was pounding through my chest. We were only this far, but it was beyond anything I could have possibly expected would happen. My mom was undressing. Knowing exactly what her son wanted.

What she wanted.

She gave a slight turn as she pulled upward, her hands along her shirt now, drawing upward and unveiling her cute, flat tummy, the little navel, the angle of her ribs and then -- breasts, barely contained in a bra that held up her lovely, ample teats. Mom let the shirt drop. As it connected with the ground, her eyes went to mine and her lips, scarlet next to her red cheeks, seemed to flare with color and with breath.

Then her hands went behind her. Her blue eyes were locked on mine, the movement of her chest under the bra was fast, faster, and the magic of the moment was the way she just looked at me, my mother, letting the clasp click between her fingers, letting it fall. My mother's tits emerged, free of the constraints, the natural weight and shape pulling downwards into teardrops, sharp with pink, pointed nipples that were so yummy and puffy that I just wanted to kneel before her, take them into my mouth, try again to see if I could suck milk from them, to bury myself in them and in the taste of her.

I pulled down my pants, boxers and all, and watched her gaze on my cock as it shot up, rigid and free. Pulsating. Her eyes widened, hypnotized by it, her glance breaking free in brief glimpses to look at me, at the way I watched her, before pulling back down to watch my cock, throbbing anxiously for her.

I was naked in front of her.

And mom only had the tiniest piece of cloth covering herself.

It was the last barrier. The last little wall. The last thin weave, the only thing keeping us from being completely naked together. Mother and son.

Mom's hands drifted along her tummy, slowly pressing along her hips and waist as they made their way to hold the sides, to pull them down.

She hesitated.

She stared at my cock. At the color of the head. She opened her mouth as if to ask a question. To see if we were going to0 far. To see if we should stop. To really make sure she, as a mother, was going through with undressing before her son, together, with full knowledge of the insane desires we had for each other.

She looked up at me.

Her voice was gorgeous and heavy with breath and hesitation.

"A-Anthony..."

Her mouth closed. It was as if she were asking me. Waiting for me to give some kind of negative, some kind of correction, some kind of sign that she shouldn't take off her panties in front of her son. That she shouldn't bare herself in front of her only child when we were so insanely sexually heated. That what she was doing shouldn't happen.

But I wasn't about to stop her.

I wanted her to take them off, so, so badly. "Please," I croaked, barely audible.

Mom's breathing quickened at that. Her lips pressed hard together, her cheeks now bright scarlet, her hands trembling as her fingers moved.

Into the waistband.

Around the little thin ribbon of fabric holding her pussy hidden.

And then she moved her hands down.

Her blonde pubic hair peeked, out, trimmed and orderly. Then there was a little thatch that was a different color, in the middle, where I knew her clit was hiding, where her pussy spread into labia. The fabric kept drifting. The labia were now clear, the shining and gorgeous lips sticky and wet.

Mom's panties kept moving down and...

There was a little liquid line, connecting the sweet, pretty lips of my mom's pussy with the silk of her panties. It drew out as her panties kept moving down, down.

My mother was soaking wet, aroused, her cunny begging and receptive and wanting something inside of her, juicing in preparation, in anticipation.

Mom was wet for me. For her son's cock.

The underwear fell, catching at her knees, falling from them, settling around her bare feet. She stepped daintily backward from them, and dazed, went toward the mirror. Her hands went to the edge of the sink, gripped it, as she leaned forward, looking at herself in disbelief, looking at her cheeks, her lips, the clear and insane sexual desire that was flooding through her right now, with her son just as naked as she was only feet away.

I was so drawn to her. To my mom. To her body, her gorgeous, smooth, curvy body.

I stepped forward. Before, it was an accident. Before I wasn't thinking. Before, when I pressed against my mother's back, felt my cock pressing between her cheeks, it was something I never would have had the courage to do.

This time, it was courage. And I thought about it, only doing it because I knew that she was wet, that she was staring at my cock, that she had touched me, massaged my cock last night. But it was also the insane sexual drive, increased by the knowledge that mom was feeling it too, that she was feeling something between her beautiful legs that called for what I had between mine.

I stepped forward. And then in a half second felt my mother's body against mine as I pressed into her from behind.

Mom's eyes went wide, not in shock. Her mouth opened in a soft gasp as our bodies connected, as I felt her warm skin, her back, felt the heat building where we touched, like a fever, felt my cock pressing at the base of her lower back. She could feel the throbbing length of it climbing up, settling between the mounds of her ass.

And then she said it again.

"Anthony." Surprised. Scared. Aroused.

Excited.

In that instant I knew. If somehow, I was misreading it, mom had her opportunity to end this. She could have said no, she could have pushed me off, she could have screamed and told me I was acting insane. My mom could have let me know in that instant that I had overstepped a boundary that may have been only violated by accidents, mistakes, maybe tiredness.

But mom didn't stop me.

She invited me.

Her ass pressed against me, her bottom gently molding to my legs, the feeling of her firmness, the sensation of my balls settling against her, they all dizzied me with the awareness that it was my own mother who was doing this. My mom's ass, pushing against me, as if she were inviting me to do more.

I felt myself shaking, going crazy, wanting nothing more than to enter my sweet, pretty mother's pussy, to take my mom from behind and to fill her up with what she gave me. I pulled back. Gripped my cock and pushed it down, tracing along her cheeks and then moving even farther downward, between her legs.

I lowered myself a little. Adjusted my angle. Moved forward, moved up, ground against mom's ass as I pushed my cock toward that little space between her legs. In my head, I felt like I was going crazy, doing something so insane, but when I looked in the mirror, I noticed mom's reflection, and her facial expression reflected the same, the look of somebody who knew they were going off the rails, going way too far, way too fast... but were way too desperate to make it stop.

I was moving my cock toward mom's cunny, about to penetrate my mother, even if it was crazy, I wanted to fill the place I was born from with just my cock, and judging by the way she was pushing herself backward, the way her breathing grew more and more tense, louder, the more her eyes widened in her stare between herself and me, the more I grew aware of how badly she wanted it too.

The heat grew as I moved closer to her, the sensation of her legs, of the slickness, suddenly touched at the head of my cock as I made contact, skin to skin, the head of my dick suddenly touching underneath her, touching her cunny, the lips of her pussy. I felt myself rubbing against her, pushing upward, feeling the slickness and a sudden division that let me push up and in and--

Mom suddenly jerked forward, gasping, and then spun around, her breathing panicked. This was it. She was throwing in the towel -- we had gone too far and too fast and now she was saying she wanted to call it quits.

What mother wouldn't? Her own son's cock was at her pussy entrance. I was just one thrust away from being where I began. How the hell was she supposed to deal with the fact that her own son was about to be inside her pussy, thrusting?

Mom leaned back, her chest heaving, her breasts moving up and down as she tried to regain her senses, her sanity, her eyes looking at me with shock as she started piecing together that what we were doing really was the craziest, most fucked up thing we had ever done in our lives. Her arms propped her up on the counter, the beautiful buds of her nipples moving up and down, little decorations, her back looking beautifully smooth in the mirror behind her.

Mom might have been having second thoughts but I wasn't.

I felt it, just a second ago. I felt the slickness. I felt the lips of my mom's pussy around the head of my cock -- I was so, so close to being inside her, I was aching for her, to move inside her, to claim her pussy as my own. I felt so desperate.

My hands went to her sides, to her waist, to her hips. They spread out and moved to her ass, and I grabbed her, gripped her, lifted her, despite the way she almost shouted my name, a sharp, "Anthony!", still tinged with intense arousal. I moved her up, sharply set her onto the counter, pressed her backward.

And then spread her legs.

Mom gasped my name, barely a whisper in volume, but her mouth moving in surprise. In excitement. Her pussy glistened below me, the little patch of hair above her labia a gorgeous gold. Below it was pink.

A rich, slick, pearly pink.

My cock moved forward.

Mom could have stopped me. Instead her arms went upward, wrapped around my neck, her hands pressing along my shoulders as I moved up, pressed my cock forward, my head touching at those beautifully pink, wet lips...

And then into my mother's deliciously hot pussy

Her eyes opened, her breath caught and then released in a moaning gasp as her grip tightened. Mom's breath matched the heat of her insides, hot, unbelievably hot, my shaft immediately welcomed in, simultaneously tight and inviting. I pushed in, feeling the walls of her insides, tighter than girls I knew at school. Her legs went up, wrapping around me, pulling me in further.

I couldn't help myself; while my mind screamed that I was inside my own mom, I started thrusting, and immediately the sound of her juices and the throbbing pleasure of my cock, sliding in and out of her sent shivers through us both as we accepted exactly what we were doing, her lips breathing noises of tight, straining pleasure.

Our faces were inches from each other, our breathing mingling, our eyes looking into each other and then down at our bodies and then down at where I was inside my mom, where her child was penetrating her, where our incestuous union was before us in undeniable evidence.

I felt her breathing. Felt the clenching tightness timed with her gasping. Felt the buildup in my core, felt her hips moving on the counter in response, as she didn't just let me fuck her, she moved on me too, giving in completely, no longer even shocked, just excited, just desperate. The more she gave in, the more her hips bucked, the more I felt not just the tightness within her, but he way her ass pushed against my legs, the grip of her hands, her arms, trying to pull me closer and deeper into her, as if she needed me, as if she needed her son.

Mom opened her mouth as I adjusted my angle, coming in from a little lower, aiming my thrusts toward the roof of her pussy where I knew there was a little spot, and then as I started to thrust up she threw her head back and let go of an uncontrollable whine, her hands letting go, moving behind her to prop her up on the counter as she leaned back to help me hit that spot, and that whine started to turn into a screaming cry, a begging one, not to stop. "Anthony!" Her voice was high and trembling with pleasure. "Fuck, Anthony!"

Down there, it was a powerful flexing sensation, my orgasm was building, growing, coiling and readying itself. It was like fire, the sensation of the walls of mom's pussy, the sound of her cries, the extraordinary disbelief as to what we were doing, all of it building in a spiral upward, my balls tightening, her hips thrusting and her legs pulling me tight into her. The buildup exploded upward, mom was rolling her head back, sighing in audible pleasure. I wasn't going to be able to hold it -- the power was sparking upward, I groaned and bit my lip and said I was about to come and mom moved on me harder and faster, her head now looking down at my cock slipping in and out of her.

"Hurry," she said in a desperate gasp, "cum on me here," she said pointing quickly toward her tummy as the flare of my orgasm went up and --

I pulled out right at the last second and unloaded, shot cum upward and over her navel in a long line, squirting heavy white fluid all over her pubic hair, up her hip in lines, thick drops spraying along her inner thighs and down onto the counter between her legs, each shot matching with a sigh from her as her hands touched and pressed at my shoulders and the back of my neck, her breathing sounding so.... Loving.

It was now just drops, slipping onto the bathroom tile. Mom stared at my cock, at the thick white fluid that clung to the head, at the cum that decorated her waist, her legs, her tummy.

At the way my cock was still intense and rigid.

She looked at it in wonder. A finger went down, and gently touched at the tip, gathering a little line of semen and drawing back, while the whiteness that I put all over her body dripped slowly down.

Mom gave a slight laugh of disbelief as she looked at her cum-decorated body. As she looked at me, at the cock that had just been filling her.

She slid down off the counter, her legs shaking as she unsteadily turned around to look at herself in the mirror.

There we were. Mother and son. Standing together nude, the evidence of our oedipal union all over her lower body, dripping down in little streams. Mom's hands went up and behind her neck as she nervously looked at herself. "Wow," she said, her tone uncertain. "I didn't know I... would like it that much."

Her words were barely audible to me. All I knew was that I was still hard. Still horny. And my mom still looked insanely incredible, her body and her ass beckoning me again. My hands went to her back, smoothing along her sides. Mom closed her eyes and leaned back onto me. "Ohh..." she said, closing her eyes and savoring the feeling of my hands.

She might have thought we were done.

But I wasn't. My hands moved up, to the back of her neck. They weaved trough her gorgeous, blonde hair, and I carefully positioned myself behind her, cock still hard and pressing along her bottom. As I pressed forward, pushing against her, pushing her into the counter, mom's eyes opened, her sighs stopped as she realized that I wanted nothing more than to fuck my own mother, again, right now, until I had used everything I had. My hands gripped her by her locks. Tight. Possessively tight.

"Anthony," my mom said. In awe of her little boy, all grown up.

I pushed her forward, and her hands went up, catching her on the mirror, her body pressed to it as her ass was now presented before me. "Oh," mom gasped, her trembling legs now spreading, as if subconsciously she were readying herself for me, preparing herself to be fucked again, filled with me.

Her cunny was still wet, dripping in fact, my cum from before dripping down between her legs. Mom was now breathing hard again, her hands pressing against the mirror, trying to find some kind of grip on the smooth, cold surface, her back arched and her footing unstable.

I didn't wait for her to find it. Her ass was so beautifully round, heart shaped. And decorating her ass, between her beautiful, round, smooth cheeks, her asshole was a dainty, infinitely tight little pucker. Mom was hairless from behind, the smooth and beautiful lips of her cunny now a rich, shining, vulnerable pink, slick and wet. And trembling.

My cock moved toward it as if drawn. Mom tensed up, her breathing almost sounding like begging as my cock touched at her labia, pressing between them, slipping in, the tightness forcing me to go in slow, the heat and slick engulfing my shaft. Every inch into her was an inch where her back made a clear and definite movement down, arching her beautiful body, submitting herself to my cock.

And then after agonizing, blissful seconds where I was inside her again, I let go -- and fucked my mom as if I were an animal.

And she responded in kind.

I noticed her making cries, loud ones with each thrust forward. I pulled her hair back, used it as leverage to thrust into her, harder, faster, the wet slapping noise of our bodies colliding in sequence driving me to move faster, to slam into her with all of the pent up sexual need she built in me, Her body, her breasts, they pushed up against the mirror, her breath fogging where her face was as she moaned as my cock plunged into her, took her, sent her breath high and desperate.

It didn't take long -- it was building up again, mom was crying out with pleasure, my name being said over and over in a spiral of pleasure, then shock, then surrender, then overwhelm. Mom's body was coiling up too, her own legs were starting to shake, her breath was getting tight, the sound of my name was getting quieter as I could feel her tenseness reaching new heights before she suddenly snapped, her hips thrusting backwards, her hands leaving the mirror and suddenly bracing themselves on the counter as her mouth opened in a wordless scream that grew into a crying moan. Mom's body shuddered and she shook, my own orgasm streaking upward as I mercilessly fucked her, harder, her moans now a scream.

My mother was screaming my name as her body thrashed backward in orgasm, I felt her shuddering, felt the sudden surge of heat and wetness as something between her legs let go and she started to squirt all over me, as my own balls tightened and then--

I came, explosively, my cock surging semen deep and up and into my mom and she gave a loud gasp as she felt it, her gasps turning into whimpers of delight as I pulsed inside of her, unloaded another throbbing stream of cum, this time deep into my own mother's womb.

I was home. I was back where I began, my semen slipping back into the deepest part of her beautiful, gorgeous, fertile looking, trembling body.

It took a minute for me to recover.

I was still inside her, her breath now the only thing I could sense, until I could open my eyes and see the breaths timing with a little fog on the mirror as mom's beautifully curved back forced her to look up, at the mirror, at me, at herself.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and orgasmic bliss.

Mom carefully straightened up, my cock pulled out in a slow, slick movement, my grip in her hair letting go, and in disbelief, she put her fingers down between her legs. Where my cum dripped from inside her. Her fingers drew upward as she stared at it, gathered on her fingers.

"Holy shit," she said, her voice almost silent with wonder.

Her body was so beautiful. Her breaths swelled, the semen from before still dripped down her in lovely, pale lines. Her cheeks, her nipples, her lips, were all a bright, sunshine red, heaving in the aftermath of what we had just done.

We were quiet together, catching our breath, spent. Mother and son.

"Maybe..." mom said, carefully supporting herself on the counter before stepping toward the shower, her voice, still shaking, but now a little more sure, more certain, a little more like that businesslike lady I always knew growing up. "...maybe we should wash all this off?"

Her beautiful hand turned on the water as she looked at me, her red lips moving as her eyes duskily narrowed, her lips curved in a breathless smile. "Together?"
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The End.
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