Introduction – setting the context:
My name is Kimberly. I am 39 years old, attractive and well educated. In most ways, I am quite conservative, both in values and politics. Prior to this summer, I would have considered myself somewhat prudish. I was certainly not liberated sexually. No one who knows me would have predicted that I could succumb to the temptation that I did.
At 39 years old, I truly do look considerably younger than my age. I have essentially the same figure I had while in college, twenty years ago. I am 5 foot 6 inches tall, and weigh 117 pounds. My breasts are small, 34B cup, but still firm and perky with prominent nipples. I have blond hair, and large green eyes. Objectively speaking, I am still a very attractive woman. I have been told on more than one occasion that I resemble Meg Ryan.
My ex-husband and I divorced over 4 years ago after a somewhat rocky 16 year marriage. He wanted the divorce more than I did, although I realize we did not belong together. We were different people, and wanted different things from life. Nonetheless, I did miss him.
Yes, I admit it, I was lonely and horny most of the time. Yet, for some strange reason, I choose not to date. I did not get asked out very often. Although I am an attractive woman, I seem to be sending out signals that I am not available or interested. I guess I have never fully gotten past my divorce. That is my misfortune.
Prior to my divorce, Ben’s father was the only man with whom I had intercourse. Since the divorce, I rarely dated, and did not have an active social life. My sex life consisted of somewhat feeble attempts at masturbation, which were only marginally successful. Prior to Ben returning home this summer, I had slept with three men since my divorce (over a four year period), and did not achieve orgasm with any of them. I never invited any of these men to my bed for a second time.
Certainly my loneliness, and my need for some level of intimacy, contributed to the very poor decisions I made during the summer of 2013. However, I am not making excuses. I am merely stating that had I not been so lonely, and had I not been thrown into a very unforeseen and unique situation with my only son, I never would have succumbed to the temptations as I did.
But despite my loneliness, I never would have imagined, or predicted, that I could engage in the deviant and perverse actions that I am going to share with you. I did not plan on these events. If I could go back and 'un-do' them, I would. I am truly embarrassed and ashamed that I allowed these things to happen.
I do not expect you to understand my level of guilt, or to absolve me of my sins. I think you should know that I write this story as much for me as for you. I hope that by writing this, I will gain some level of insight into myself, and gain some understanding about what happened this past summer, and why. And perhaps with that understanding, I can begin to forgive myself, and start the healing process.
I hope you (the reader) do not think that I am a pariah. I really am not. I really am a good and decent person who loves her son, and wants only the best for him. But I understand how you might see me in that light; I understand how you may view me as a monster of sorts. In fact, if I were reading about someone else committing the sins I have committed, I would view them as a monster myself. So I guess I deserve your scorn and disdain. Summer, 2013
It was June, 2013 when my only son, Ben, returned from college for summer break. He was 18 and had just completed his freshman year in petroleum engineering at LSU in Baton Rouge.
As I said, Ben’s father and I had divorced several years earlier. So, since Ben left for his freshman year at college, I have lived alone. I missed Ben terribly while he was away.
My son was the center of my universe. Ben had lined up a summer job working offshore for a drilling contractor, and he would be working a ‘rotating' schedule, meaning he would be offshore for seven straight days and then be off for seven straight days. It also meant he would be home with me for seven straight days every other week.
He was due to start his first hitch offshore about a week after he got home. He would have a week of relaxing around the house before having to start work. This first week, before Ben started working offshore, would soon prove to be an eventful week; one that would have a profound impact on Ben's and my lives.
So here my story, and my saga being..... Witnessing my son masturbating:
Late one evening during the first week Ben was home, I awoke around 1:00 a.m. I was thirsty. So I decided to go down stairs for a drink of water or juice. I typically slept in my panties and a t-shirt. Tonight was no exception.
As I descended the steps, I could see the glow from the computer screen in the corner of the den down stairs. The soft green glow illuminated the room, indicating that Ben was still awake.
I looked into the den through the closed glass doors. I could see that Ben had only his boxers on and was wearing headphones. He was sitting at the computer desk with his back towards me as I glanced in on him.
I was surprised to see him gently stroking his erect penis while he watched pornographic video clips on the computer. I say ‘gently stroking’ because he seemed to be slowly teasing himself rather than furiously pumping his erection. I had never actually witnessed a man masturbating before that moment. It intrigued me.
I should have quietly turned and retreated upstairs and left him alone to masturbate in private; however, I was completely mesmerized by the sight of my son masturbating. I froze in my tracks. I could see Ben was ‘bared chested’ and was wearing only his boxers, and his erection was standing straight up through the slit in the front of his underwear.
I moved slightly so that I was standing off to the edge of the closed glass door leading into the den. From this vantage point I was able to catch a partial ‘side view’ of Ben as he slowly stroked his erection with his right hand.
Even from my partially obstructed view, I could see that Ben had an impressive penis. I found myself getting aroused at this sight, and without thinking, I reached down and touched myself while standing in the shadows in the hallway, watching my son pump his fist.
'Touching myself' was almost an involuntary reaction on my part rather than a conscious decision to join Ben in this endeavor of his. I just touched myself without thinking about it.
I do not know exactly how long I stood there in the dark, squatting slightly and silently stimulating myself to the unexpected sight of Ben's masturbation session, but I assume it was several minutes. I do not know what made him do so, perhaps he saw my movement reflected on the computer screen or perhaps a shadow moving caught his eye, but suddenly and without any warning Ben turned around and saw me standing in the darkened hallway with my night shirt hiked up around my waist and my hand in my panties stoking myself.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed.
I quickly withdrew my hand, tried to straighten my night shirt, and explained that I was only coming down for a drink. I apologized for disturbing him as I quickly scurried into the kitchen.
As I fled to the kitchen, I could feel a flush burning into my cheeks and neck as my embarrassment at being caught in my voyeuristic activities caused me to turn a bright crimson. My pulse was racing as I quickly thought what to do next.
Rather than being embarrassed about being caught masturbating, my son wanted to confront me about my behavior and my actions. Ben was not the least bit reticent about what I had witnessed him doing.
He got up and followed me into the kitchen, with his chest bare, wearing only his boxers shorts. He was still sporting an enormous boner. I struggled not to look at the huge tent in his underpants, but the huge erection seemed to command me to look at it repeatedly.
“What were you doing back there in the hallway?” he asked, with an authoritative tone that was out of place for this particular situation.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I was just coming down for a drink. I am sorry I disturbed you.” I repeated. There was a noticeable nervousness in my voice. I was obviously embarrassed and uneasy. Ben seemed to enjoy my humiliation and discomfort.
My son was assertive in confronting me. On the other hand, I was simply trying to retreat from this embarrassing, no actually humiliating, encounter.
I know it sound absurd that the child was questioning the parent about masturbation in an inappropriate place, but I swear, that is what happened. I did not know how to react or what to say. Somehow, he seemed to have the upper hand.
Ben stood there in the doorway, essentially blocking my path to exit the kitchen. He was clearly unconcerned with concealing the very obvious the pole was that was making a huge tent in the front of his boxers. With a huge grin he said simply, “It didn’t look to me like you were ‘doing nothing’ back there.”
I was mortified. I blushed even deeper. And the smirk on his face clearly showed that he relished my embarrassment, which served to embarrass me further.
Finally, after an awkward moment of silence, I pushed past him and headed upstairs saying simply, “Well I was just coming down stairs for a drink. There is nothing more to it.”
And tried hard to maintain eye contact as I pushed past him. I tried not to stare at my son’s erection pointing straight up at me; but I know Ben caught my quick glances at his erection, and this embarrassed me even more.
And for some unexplainable reason, my embarrassment seemed to arouse both of us!
I heard him chuckle “OK, if that’s your story” as I ascended the stairs to my bedroom. I had not even gotten the drink I originally came down stairs for.
I shut my bedroom door, my heart pounding and my head spinning. I was not exactly sure what just happened, but the entire encounter made me dizzy and confused.
I did not sleep much that night. I was clearly shaken by this encounter with my son. But I was also aroused. But I did not touch myself further that evening. The thought of masturbating to the memory of my son’s large erection was simply out of the question. I was ashamed at my actions and I was shocked at my reaction to the sights I had witnessed.
After tossing and turning for several hours, I finally fell back asleep only to be awakened by my alarm at 5:00 a.m. I showered, dressed and headed to work while Ben slept.
I spend most of the following day at work deeply distracted about the relatively innocent interaction with Ben the night before. I was anxious on several fronts. The embarrassment of the incident notwithstanding, I also had to admit that the mental image of my son’s very large, very erect penis was now etched indelibly in my mind’s eye. And it was arousing me despite my best intentions. I could not rid my ‘mind's eye’ of the image of Ben's erection no matter how hard I tried.
Nor could I control my physical reaction to this mental image. I could feel my pulse in my erect clitoris all day, and the gusset of my panties was wet all day long. I was an emotional mess. I simply could not control my physical arousal to these inappropriate thoughts and images dancing in my head.
Maybe it was simply the fact that I had been basically ‘starved for sex’ since my divorce. But my unnatural and inappropriate reaction to my 18 year old son’s erection was very troubling to me. Very troubling indeed. In fact, even as I write this, my reaction is very troubling still.
Further, I was troubled by the fact that Ben's assertive, confident, even cocky manner last night both embarrassed and excited me. I was troubled and confused by the fact that my son's enjoyment of my humiliation, coupled with the confident manner in which he confronted me, aroused me. I did not like it, I did not understand it, but I could not deny my reaction to it. I arrive home
I arrived home at the usual time and made dinner. We sat together at the table, silently at first. As I usually do, I had a couple of glasses of wine with dinner to help me unwind a bit. I offered a glass of wine to Ben, and he accepted. I reasoned that he was 18, a college student who was not unfamiliar with alcohol at school. It seemed to be a harmless gesture to recognize the fact that he was now in many ways an adult. Ben and I shared three glasses of merlot each as we ate.
Over dinner, Ben broached the subject once again. I had planned to simply ignore the events of the previous night, but I quickly realized that I was going to have to address what happened.
Ben started the conversation abruptly, “Mom, I think we should talk about last night.”
Perhaps he was emboldened by the third glass of wine? I was nervous and uncomfortable.
“OK, you start.” I said buying time until I could get my thoughts together. I wanted to let him speak first so I could construct my response to whatever issue he raised.
“Do you know what I was doing when you came down the steps?”
OK, let’s take a clinical approach to this situation, I thought. “I assume you were masturbating.”
“Yes, I was. Are your OK with me doing that in your house?”
I was relieved that he wanted to discuss his actions rather than mine. “Of course I am. That is a normal, healthy activity for someone your age. There is nothing wrong with that, nothing to be ashamed of. I apologize for interrupting you.”
Ben nodded indicating he heard and accepted what I had said. After about 30 seconds of silence, he asked, “Do you do it? Do you masturbate?”
Oh my, I thought; this has taken a nasty turn. Surely he could see me last night.
I could feel my voice quiver nervously as I answered, “Yes, I have been known to masturbate on occasion.”
“How often do you masturbate, mom?”
“Ben, I am not comfortable discussing this with you. This is a personal matter, not something I should be discussing with my son.” I could feel my face flush with embarrassment.
“Mom, you are trying to tell me that masturbation is normal, healthy and there is nothing wrong with it. Yet you don’t want to talk to me about a normal, healthy activity that you admit you do. So which is it?”
I was amazed at how very comfortable my son was addressing this very intimate subject. Unlike my son, I was certainly a long way from 'comfortable' with this subject. I struggled with how to respond.
Finally I said, “OK, you are right. It is a little embarrassing, but there is nothing wrong with it, and it is normal.” I took a deep breath. Then I took a long sip of my glass of merlot. “Yes, I masturbate, or try to, several times a week. If I am successful, it helps me sleep.”
“Try to? If you are successful?” Ben questioned.
“Yes, try to. Here is a little known fact about your mother. It is often difficult for me to reach a climax. So I often try, but do not fully succeed.”
“Why do you think you have trouble cumming?”
“Whoa, your not even going to use the clinically correct terms, are you? You are going directly for the street slang? OK, I guess we’ll use terms you are comfortable with."
I paused to gather my thoughts before continuing, "I guess I have trouble because I am easily distracted, and struggle with the feeling that on some level that sex is wrong. I know that is silly way to feel. I know that sex, in particular, masturbation is normal and healthy. Nonetheless these irrational feelings I have do interfere sometimes.”
“How do you do it? Do you insert something or just use your fingers?” he asked in a matter of fact manner that made me very uneasy.
I blushed deeply. I certainly did not want to discuss my vibrator selection with my 18 year old son. “Benjamin! That is not the sort of question you ask your mother!”
“Why not? I am curious how women do it?” He was calm, comfortable, and he seemed to be unaware how inappropriate these questions were.
I sat there for several seconds trying to decide how to respond. I decided that if my son was comfortable asking these questions, I should answer as honestly as I could.
“I usually just rub myself. I usually rub my clitoris that is. But I have used a device internally when I felt a real need to achieve a climax.” I paused for a moment before continuing. “I have never before discussed this with anyone, including your father. No one has ever asked me about this before. This is a very, very strange conversation we are having. Very strange.”
Ben smiled at me with genuine amusement. “Mom, thank you for being honest with me and sharing this with me. I really do feel closer to you having discussed this with you. It is a strange conversation, but I like the fact that we can talk about something so personal like this. I like it a lot.”
Ben’s last comment did make me feel good. I did feel very close to my son at that moment. And I realized that my vagina was starting to lubricate from the discussion. I briefly wondered if Ben was also growing aroused talking about his mother inserting a vibrating dildo inside herself? Since he was sitting at the table, I was unable to sneak a glance at his crotch to determine if my son was also reacting to our discussion in the same manner as his naughty mother was.
This conversation was definitely affecting me. I tried to purge these thoughts from my mind, and tried to focus on more appropriate topics.
After a bit more back and forth, I cleared the table and went up stairs to change. I briefly contemplated what to wear. I decided to don the night clothes I would normally wear. I reasoned that it would send the wrong message to Ben if I started acting very differently than normal just because of our dinner conversation about masturbation.
I returned wearing a t-shirt that came down to my mid-thigh. My panties were modestly hidden underneath. I did realize my nipples were on ‘high alert’ and were prominently visible under the cotton material of my t-shirt. I thought about wearing a bra to hide my erect nipples, but decided that would be just silly. Ben would just have to deal with the fact that my nipples were erect tonight. After all, he was pretty much responsible for my condition.
Ben was in the den, sitting at the computer, when I returned downstairs to watch TV. I waved to him as I started to walk past the den into the TV room. Ben beckoned me into the den and asked me to sit down and watch a video with him. I looked at the screen and saw an attractive woman lying on her stomach on a massage table with a young muscular masseur starting to rub her naked back. She had a towel covering her bottom, but she was obviously naked underneath.
I realized that Ben had selected another erotic video to watch. He was obviously feeling quite comfortable with me, perhaps far too comfortable.
“Ben, we should not be watching films like this together. I am going to leave you to your videos and go in the other room to watch TV.” I said as I started to turn and leave.
“Mom, stay and watch this with me. I want to enjoy this with you.”
As I write this, I am very sorry I did not continue to exit the room and this situation. But I did not.
I stopped, looked back at he computer screen, and then I glanced down at his crotch. I could see his erection poking up under his gym shorts. I was torn. I knew I needed to leave, but something deep inside of me was urging me to stay, even if it was just for a brief moment longer.
“Ben, that’s not a good idea….really…I better go…” I stammered nervously. The quiver in my voice revealed the internal turmoil I was dealing with. I felt like I was in a trance of sorts, unable to move.
Yes, some part of me wanted to stay despite knowing I should leave. Some part of me wanted to experience this forbidden, taboo interaction just a few moments longer.
Ben pulled up a chair next to his, patted the seat, indicating I should sit. He simply said, “Mom, stay for a minute. Please. Just a moment.”
I do not know why, but I sat down as I was instructed to do. I knew I should not, but I did stay. I really did not intend for anything to happen between us, but I wanted to be near my son as he watched this video and share in his arousal. I am ashamed to admit it, but I wanted to be near my son as he grew erect.
As the video became more and more explicit, I could see Ben’s penis begin to grow and stiffen under the thin material of his gym shorts. I could see it throb and pulse under the material of his gym shorts.
Ben seemed to position himself in a way that brought my attention to his crotch. He knew I was aware of his erection. He seemed proud of it. He made no effort at all to hide his bulging penis from me. My son seemed to be teasing me with his erection, flaunting his erection in front of me.
Ben then surprised me. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, leaving him wearing only his gym shorts and boxers.
At some core level, I knew where Ben was headed. I wanted to stop him, but I simply did not know what to do, or what to say. So I said nothing.
I was impressed by the broadness of my son’s shoulders and arms, the nice definition of his chest and the firmness of his abdomen. My son had a fine body. I realized what a fine looking young man he had become. In so many ways, he reminded me of his father, the only man with whom I had ever experienced a climax.
The similarities between Ben and his father only increased my confusion.
Between the images on the screen, the very vivid memories of Ben’s erection from the previous night, coupled with the growing tent in his gym shorts in front of me, I was becoming increasingly aware of my own clitoris and the growing wetness of my vagina.
I also knew that my nipples were completely erect and were clearly visible through my t-shirt. My son glanced at my erect nipple with admiration and appreciation. The look on his face as he admired my breasts both excited and pleased me.
I could feel myself leaking into the gusset of my panties from my arousal. I wondered if Ben could smell the faint, but distinct aroma of my arousal? I realized that I was just now starting to give off my scent. I knew I could not control it. I also knew that my scent was only going to get stronger and more distinct as my arousal grew. I knew I must leave before my sexual scent became too obvious for my son to ignore. But I seemed unable to force myself to leave.
I looked back on the computer monitor. On the screen, the young masseur had now removed the large towel from the woman’s back and buttocks, leaving her completely naked as he massaged her upper thighs from behind. The masseur was slowly separating her legs and exposing her vagina. I was struck by how much the woman on the massage table resembled me, and the young masseur resembled Ben. I suspected that was not merely a coincidence. I suspected Ben was aware of the similarities between the people in the video and his mother and him.
Right there in front of me, Ben reached down and slowly massaged himself through his gym shorts. I was curious, aroused, and tried not to act shocked. He was now obviously fully erect.
He looked directly at me, continued to stroke himself and said coyly, “Join me? Please?”
I blushed and feigned not understanding what he was saying. But I knew, Ben wanted me to masturbate with him, to share this moment. He wanted us to masturbate together.
“You know. It’s normal, healthy and there is nothing wrong with it. Join me.” As he smiled towards my barely covered crotch.
“Oh, I couldn’t do that with you. It would be wrong. And it would be embarrassing. I should leave.” I said nervously. This was spinning out of control. I needed to stop, but I felt helpless.
“You yourself told me it is normal and healthy. Come on.” As he placed his hand into his gym shorts to stroke himself “skin-to-skin”.
Then Ben raised off the seat slightly so he could lower his gym shorts. As he pulled down his shorts, his erection sprang free and came into full view.
He left his gym shorts around his upper thighs, freeing his penis. Unashamed, he exposed his erect penis to me, this time intentionally. He stroked himself slowly and seductively, glancing at me to gauge my reaction. He was casting a hypnotic trance over me. I could not seem to break free.
My son had a gorgeous cock. In fact, I must admit, his erect penis was magnificent. It was thick, long and rigid. It was so hard and erect that it looked like it hurt. It was long, thick and thickly veined. The purple glands stood atop the shaft like a plum shaped helmet.
My head was spinning. I felt absolutely dizzy. I did not know what to do, or how to react.
“Mom, please share this with me.” Ben encouraged.
I know now, as I knew then, that I should have politely gotten up and excused myself at that moment. It was the last chance I had to avoid a line that I never should have crossed.
I just could not force myself to leave. I would like to claim I do not know why I did not get up at that moment; but the truth is I was very, very aroused by this whole perverse situation.
Ben looked deeply into my eyes and placed his hand on my upper thigh, and pulled my knees apart ever so slightly, and said, "Mom, please, join me."
Despite all logic and reason to the contrary, I simply nodded as I slowly reached down to touch myself through my panties. I separated my knees a bit more to give myself access to my swollen clitoris. I could not bring myself to place my hand inside my panties, or to remove them; but I did slowly touch myself on the outside of my panties.
With my legs spread apart, Ben was able to look directly at the pale blue cotton material covering my vagina. I knew that my wetness would soon be visible to him as I began to lubricate more profusely. I also knew the scent of my arousal was now permeating the air; both Ben and I could smell the unmistakable aroma of a woman aroused. And I am ashamed to admit, this aroused woman was his mommy; the woman who bore and nursed him.
I watched intently as Ben pulled on his penis and then stroked it downward. It was a magnificent erection. It had a slight purple tint. It was slightly darker than Ben’s normal complexion. I was estimating it was 7 to 8 inches, and it was quite thick. It was thicker than the vibrator that I had in my night stand, which was the largest item to work its way into my pussy up to that point and time.
Yes, Ben was slightly larger than his father. I took some perverse pleasure in the physical dimensions of my son’s erection. He was my son and he would make a lot of women very happy with that cock. God he was a sexy young man.
The sight of my son’s erect cock, coupled with the scenes on the computer screen fueled both Ben’s and my arousal. The masseur now had his fingers inside the woman as she moaned, responding to his penetrating fingers. She rocked her ass off the table and grasped the edged of the table in the throes of ecstasy. Her loud moans, and her clutching the table as her orgasm overtook her was a very sexy sight indeed.
I continued to massage my clitoris with tiny circles was I watched Ben stroke himself with increasing speed. I was on the verge of climax, but something was stopping me from crossing the line to orgasm.
Our breathing began to synchronize and became faster, deeper and more labored. I could tell Ben was approaching orgasm. I could not help myself, I wanted to witness it and experience my son’s climax. His climax was far more important to me than my own.
His loins stiffened, his pace quickened. He closed his eyes and pumped faster still. Suddenly, with a deep grunt, Ben’s entire body convulsed one time and then he arched his hips forward. I watched in amazement as my son began to ejaculate.
A long thick rope of semen shot up 6 or 7 inches and landed on his abdomen and lower chest. He held his cock tightly in his fist and moments later a second as slightly smaller string erupted and landed on his lower abdomen. Moments later, a third string shot up and dribbled down his fist. Each string erupted with slightly less force and distance than the previous one. It was a beautiful sight to see. I was so aroused, but I could not climax.
I was amazed at the strength, volume and distance of his ejaculate. There were at least three very large spurts and the semen covered his belly and chest with a gooey mess; the fragrance of the semen filled my nostrils. I inhaled to savor the fragrance of my son's semen. I had never been so stimulated in my life, yet I could not reach and orgasm myself.
As Ben sat there, his head laying back against the chair. He sat there, panting and sated. His chest heaved up and down as he attempted to recover. My baby was a very sexy man.
And the memory of my son, sitting with his erection in his fist, his semen splattered across his abdomen and he chest rising and falling as he tried to recover is one of most beautiful and sexy images I can imagine. Despite it being completely inappropriate, the memory arouses me to this day.
I got up, said “don’t move, baby, I will clean this up.” I went to the bathroom and got a wash rag. I soaked it in warm water, wrung it out, and returned.
Just as I had instructed him, he had not moved. He sat back waiting for his mommy to clean him up.
While no longer fully erect, his penis had not grown soft. It was firm, large and still quite 'heavy'. It just was not standing straight up any longer, but rather it was laying across his lower abdomen. It was still remarkably long, reaching nearing to his navel.
Sitting down on the chair next to him, I leaned over and began to wipe the semen from his chest and belly. The sweet scent of the semen continued to excite me. Again, I inhaled the fragrance as I wanted to savor this moment as long as I could.
Ben simply lay back closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the wash cloth. I could see his penis twitch and pulse as I washed his stomach and lower abdomen with the warm wash rag.
And then brazenly, I took his semi-erect penis in one hand and wiped it with the warm wash cloth. I was amazed at how heavy and thick it felt. My baby was a grown man with a large penis.
Ben's cock immediately began to stiffen in my hand. I felt it pulse under my touch and thicken. Instinctively, not really thinking about the morality or ramifications of my actions, I continued to gently massage his penis as it grew hard. The experience was surreal, and almost dream like. I really did not feel that I was on control of my actions, but rather a player in a scripted play.
“Is this OK?” I asked as I gently teased his penis back to erection. (as I write this, I cannot really believe I actually did this, but I did.)
“Oh, yes.” he moaned appreciatively, arching his hips slightly with each gentle stroke. I knew this was crossing yet another barrier that should not be crossed. This was no longer simply witnessing my son masturbate, I was now actually stimulating him.
I knew this was wrong, but God forgive me, the sight and scents of the scene had me intoxicated with lust. I was wet, aroused and not thinking clearly at all.
Ben leaned forward and ran his hand up my inner thigh. I froze. I did not intend to have him touch me or for this to go any further. I was merely caught up in the moment. For some strange reason, a mother touching her son seemed a bit less heinous than a mother allowing her son to touch her, or finger her.
Honestly, I had not intended for this to go as far as it already had. I certainly did not intend for it to progress further. In a panic, I tensed up momentarily, pressing my thighs together, denying my son access to me gushing pussy.
Ben merely said, “relax. I just want to touch you for a moment. I just want to feel your excitement.” As he gently separated my legs and his fingers slowly explored the gusset of my very damp, almost soaked panties.
"No, baby, we can't do that. Please don't." I pleaded weakly. But I did not release his erection. I continued to stroke him ever so slowly. My head was a whirl wind of confusion.
Ben continued to gently try to separate my thighs as he instructed me to allow him access. "Mom, please. Let me touch you. I just want to feel your arousal. I love you so much. Please. "
He paused for a moment and then continued, "Mom, I can smell your arousal. Please let me touch you. God you smell good to me. I love you mom."
I remained frozen for several seconds before allowing Ben to open my legs slightly. I was confused. I was actually dizzy. My head was truly spinning as I tried to sort out what to do? And tried to determine what I actually could do? How much strength did I truly have?
Slowly, I allow my son to open my thighs. As I relented I reasoned, 'how can I deny Ben touching me while I am touching him?' I knew I should not have been allowing any of this, but we were past the point of making the right decision now; and I clearly did not have the will, strength or desire to release his beautiful hard-on and leave this moment.
Ben’s touch on my clitoris, separated from his fingers by only a thin piece of fabric was electric. A slight moan escaped me, revealing how much I enjoyed, and needed his touch.
It had been over 5 months since I had been with a man; and the last man with whom I had achieved and orgasm, in fact the only man with whom I had ever achieved and orgasm, was Ben’s father before the divorce, 4 1/2 years ago. That is right; I had not had an orgasm with another human being in over 4 years!
Ben quickly found my erect clit and massaged it in a gentle but arousing manner that had me rocking my hips and moaning as I clung to his erect penis with my hand. I pumped his penis in my fist as he massaged my clitoris through my panties. The gusset of my panties was now soaking wet with my leaking lubrication. The thin material was wedged slightly into my crevice as my son stimulated my clitoris.
Then Ben pulled aside the leg of my panties so he could access the opening of my vagina freely. I was so wet, so aroused, and so open, that he had no trouble locating my opening, and inserting two fingers deep inside me. Again I knew I needed to stop him, but I simply could not do it. I let my son finger his mother. Yes, right there in my den, I let my only son insert his fingers inside me!
Yes, I was allowing my son to explore the very vagina that he was conceived in, and which bore him 18 years ago! I am ashamed to admit, the thought that he was revisiting his birth place added to my excitement.
On some level, I wanted to allow him to make this journey into my womb. But I knew it was wrong, I knew I should stop this. But somehow, I just could not.
Ben got up from the seat next to me, and moved to a kneeling position in front of me. I released his penis as he did, and watched as he magnificent erection arched straight up on its own. Kneeling in front of me, Ben reached up and started to remove my panties.
“Oh baby, we can’t do that. We have already done too much.” I pleaded. Ben continued to tug at my panties, saying nothing. “No honey, don’t do that” I pleaded.
Ben did not respond to my protests or pleas. He just continued to tug at my panties.
But I guess I never really had the strength to resist. Even as I protested, I raised my bottom off the chair to allow my son to remove my panties. Yes, despite my verbal protests, all of my physical actions communicated clearly to my son that I wanted him to continue.
As I raised my bottom off the seat, Ben pulled my panties down, and I slowly pulled one foot at a time out of them. Ben tossed my drawers aside, leaving me naked from the waist down, and vulnerable.
Ben pushed my knees apart and looked at my wet dilated vagina with aroused admiration. I had not shaved my pubic area, but my pubic hair is very fine, and blonde, making it almost transparent. I could feel my juices trickling out of me, running down the crack of my ass.
Ben studied my vagina for several seconds. I blushed deeply at the embarrassment of my son examining my open vagina in this manner, but this moment excited me in a manner I cannot describe. I could feel myself literally flowing I was so aroused.
My scent permeated the room. I was in heat. Ben said nothing, but leaned forward and inhaled my scent, savoring the aroma as he smiled up at me, indicating how much he enjoyed my erotic fragrance.
“Mom, you are so beautiful, and so sexy. God you are beautiful.” He said as he slowly traced his fingers across my wet slit and found the opening of my vagina. Ben’s index and middle fingers quickly found their way deep inside me. His knuckles stimulated my clit while the tips of his fingers were teasing the front wall of my vagina, my g-spot. My arousal made entry far too easy.
“Oh baby, you need to stop. We can’t do this.” I protested. But I did not push him away. Instead, I opened my thighs wider to allow him better access.
As I clutched the arms of the chair in which I was seated, I scooted my bottom forward as I allowed my son to finger me. I was in a state of arousal I had never before known. I need his touch. I needed this penetration.
But I knew it was wrong. God forgive me, I knew it was wrong.
Again, I said “Ben, you have to stop this, you are going to make me cum.”; but I made no physical effort to stop what was happening. I felt my orgasm building slowly inside me. I had reached that unmistakable point where I knew my climax was now imminent. I was going to cum. And I needed my release. I was beyond stopping now. I could not stop.
“Please, baby, stop. Oh God, I am going to cum.” I begged again. But I did not want him to stop. I wanted my son to continue his stimulation of his mother, to trigger my release. I needed my son to make me cum.
And no, he did not stop.
No, instead, he leaned forward and placed my engorged clit in his mouth, sucking it gently. My baby was stimulating my erect and sensitive clitoris with his lips and tongue. But instead of simply licking my clit as his father would, my baby was sucking on my 'nubbins' as if it was a nipple. No one had ever done this before. And my response was immediate and profound!
With my son’s mouth on my engorged clitoris, I completely lost it. The sounds emanated that from my core were astounding. I simply cannot describe them. It was a combination of a deep guttural moan and scream.
It was a sound I had never made before. It was a sound I had never heard before. There was no doubt that my son had 'pushed me over the cliff', so to speak.
I started the biggest, most intense and longest orgasm of my life. I bucked my hips wildly.
Like a wanton whore, I reached down and took my son’s head in my hands as I held him in place as he sucked my clit, pressing myself forward to push his fingers as deeply inside me as they could reach.
I started to grind myself into Ben's chin and mouth, trying to force his probing fingers deeper as I screamed in ecstasy.
"Oh god, baby, I am cumming....oh Ben...please don't stop....baby, mommy is cumming...."
Ben’s sucking became more intense, almost violent; his fingers aggressively attacked the front wall of my vagina. He spread his fingers apart as he pulled them out and plunged them forward violently
He was stretching my pussy open. Wave upon wave of pleasure rocked across my body, my abdomen was convulsing. I continued making completely incoherent sounds, almost talking in tongues so to speak, as orgasmic wave after wave crashed through me as never before.
My son was giving me my first multiple orgasm of my life, and he continue to stimulate me. But rather than allowing me to come down from my peak, Ben kept sucking my clitoris and punishing the internal walls of my uterus.
He kept me at the peak. He was forcing orgasm upon orgasm upon me until my belly hurt. I truly needed to stop; but could not stop cumming until he released his hold on me.
I thought I would pass out. "Oh baby, please stop....I need to stop cumming...please baby, please...oh shit...I can't stop.... please..." I was screeching.
But then another series of orgasmic convulsions would rock me. "Oh God....I am cumming again! Oh my God....oh shit....it is too much....oh baby, please....oh god..." I was screaming and moaning
Finally, I garnered all my strength and forced his head back, breaking the suction his lips and tongue had on my clit and panted, “please baby, please. You need to let me stop, you need to let me down.”
He smiled proudly, very pleased that his efforts had produced such a profound result. He removed his fingers from my uterine walls and sat on the couch next to me; his erect penis still straining towards the ceiling.
His chin was wet and shiny from my juices.
I sat there reclined in the chair, panting, trying to recover my senses. My breast were heaving. Sweat was soaking through my t-shirt. My legs remained splayed open for my son's gaze.
I had just had the most intense, powerful and longest orgasm of my life; and I had it with half my son’s fist inside me and his lips and tongue on my clitoris. I could not believe I had allowed this to happen.
Then it hit me, unexpectedly. The combination of my long overdue sexual release coupled with the enormity of my sin came over me in a wave of panic and guilt.
“Oh, baby, I am so, so very sorry,” I sobbed as tears began to flow uncontrollably. “I never meant for anything like this to happen. I promise, it will never happen again.” I was crying hysterically now.
Ben pulled me close, hugging me deeply, attempting to comfort me and calm my crying. “Mom, it was a beautiful, beautiful thing. There is nothing to be sorry about. I love you, and I want to make love to you. This is what I have wanted for a long, long time.”
“No baby, it was terribly, terribly wrong of me to let this happen. You are my son. I should never have let this get this far; I should never have even let this get started. I should never have let my weakness allow me to use you this way. I promise, baby, it won’t happen again.”
Ben’s fingers lifted my chin to look into his eyes. “Mom, please do not say that. I want it to happen again, and again. I need you and want you.”
Ben wiped my tears and kissed my cheeks as I continued to sob.
My beautiful son then paused for a second, stood in front of me, and he took my hand and placed it on his erect penis and said, “Mom, I need to cum again. I need it bad. I need your help.”
My hand rested on his erection as I tried to think. I tried to clear my head, but could not. My tears were still flowing freely, falling down my cheeks and on to my shirt, but my uncontrollable sobbing had subsided slightly as I felt the thick, heavy erection in my hand.
I did not know what to do. I wanted this to stop. I wanted to pretend that I had not just allowed this to happen. However, it seemed silly to me to refuse to assist my son with his engorged penis issue in the context of what I had just allowed him to do to me.
On the other hand I was losing complete control of the situation. Or maybe I never had any control?
I looked at his penis, uncertain of what to do. More confused than I have ever been before, I encircled my fingers around his shaft, amazed again at the thickness of my son’s cock, and gently began stroking up and down the entire length.
“I shouldn’t be doing this Ben. This is wrong.” Nonetheless, I could not refuse my boy in this situation, I just couldn’t.
Ben moved closer, positioning his erection in front of my face as he placed his hands on he back of my head. He nudged my head forward. I knew what he wanted, but I couldn’t do that.
Oh God help me, I was so confused and out of control. How did I ever allow this to happen? My head literally spun as I tried to process what I should do now as my son's rigid cock waved inches in front of my mouth.
Coming soon: chapter two…I relieve my son's need for release….
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/incest/kimberly-and-her-son-chapter-one.aspx">Kimberly and her son - chapter one</a>