My name is Claire, and my son, Danny, is now in his junior year of college at the University of Kansas in Lawrence, after being born and raised in Kansas City, Kansas. He has a steady girlfriend who will likely become his wife after graduation, but I am also continuing my emotional and sexual relationship with him, even though I still live with his father, my husband Frank, in Kansas City.

This story chronicles the events that led to my incestuous relationship with Danny, beginning in the summer after he turned sixteen years old in the spring, before his junior year in high school, when I was forty.

Danny was working on my father’s farm near Oskaloosa that summer and had been working with harvesting equipment when an accident occurred. It was in July and he not only broke both forearms and several bones in both hands, but also got hairline fractures in both fibulas. He was initially treated in a medical clinic in Oskaloosa and was then transferred to a hospital closer to home.

He was in the hospital for two weeks, recovering after undergoing surgeries to set the broken bones. He came home with casts on both forearms, hands, and lower legs, which meant that he would need constant attention and nursing care for eating, bathing, and normal bodily excretion functions, for anywhere from six to eight weeks, except his fractured fibulas would heal faster.

He was concerned about how he would be able to get the care he needed since our family’s financial situation was comfortable, but we’re not wealthy, and on the way home from the hospital, he said, “Mom, I’ve had constant care from nurses and nurses’ aides in the hospital, resulting in embarrassing situations for me for bathing and using the toilet. I’m worried about how our family can afford to give me similar care at home.”

I had been thinking about that too, and gave him a weak and nervous smile, as I said, “I know, honey, and we’re going to have to make do with me taking care of you. I’m going to take a leave from my job for a month or two, since I’ll lose less income than constant, professional, nursing care would cost. I know that some things will be embarrassing for us, especially for a sixteen-year-old boy with his mother taking care of him, but we don’t have much choice. I’ll respect your privacy as much as I can, and we can get through it if we try hard together.”

It was a struggle for me to get him out of the car and into a wheelchair, and then out of the wheelchair and into the hospital bed we rented to make it easier for me to take care of him while also allowing him more variety of positions. We placed some, wireless, voice-activated intercom units in his bedroom and several other rooms in our home so he could easily request help. We got him home in the late morning, and after he was settled in bed, I fed him lunch. It was early afternoon before Danny had to urinate, and we had our first embarrassing moments.

Danny called me in and nervously said, “This is going to be so embarrassing for me, Mom, but I have to pee. Would you bring the urinal bottle over and help me? Please do what the nurses did, and just reach under the sheet to, uh, to you know, to push my, uh, push me into the bottle without looking.”

I knew that it was uncomfortable for him, and even a little for me, but I hadn’t seen his genitals since he was toilet trained at about two and a half years old, and I’m ashamed to admit that I was curious about how he had developed as a young man. He wasn’t wearing underwear, so it would be easier to take care of his bathroom needs, and I elevated the upper part of the bed and pushed the bottle under the sheet, and then reached for and gripped his cock and pushed the head and first couple of inches into the bottle.

He was distressed but not so much so that he didn’t enjoy having my jiggling breasts near his face. I enjoyed feeling his circumcised cock that felt so thick and meaty, over six inches long, and it was on soft. It was bigger on soft than my husband’s cock is on hard. I then stepped away from the bed, and said, “I’ll give you privacy to pee, and will be back in a few minutes, when you call me, to take the bottle away.”

I had been given written instructions from the nurses at the hospital on how to care for Danny in bed, and when I returned and pulled the bottle away, I used a washcloth dampened with warm water to wipe his crotch, which gave me a chance to feel and handle his big cock again.

When I was finished and talking the bottle away, I said, “See, Danny, that wasn’t so bad.”

One thing nice about being home with Danny for that many weeks is that I could dress casually in t-shirts, shorts, yoga pants, and leggings, instead of the less comfortable business attire, and I’d be able to catch up on some home projects in between taking care of Danny. I had always been a bit of an exhibitionist, and I liked it when Danny noticed and stared at my breasts.

I changed the channel on the television for him and went back to doing a few chores around the home, until he called me in later that afternoon, saying, “Sorry, Mom, but I have to poop now.”

He was able to raise his buttocks as I reached under the sheet to place the bedpan under him, and then I raised the bed into a sitting position so it would be easier for him to defecate. I left the room to give him privacy, and when he called me back in, I lowered the head of the bed halfway as he raised his buttocks, and I removed the bedpan.

The tricky and potentially embarrassing part was cleaning him afterwards, and there was no way to give him complete privacy. I fully lowered the bed and rolled him to his side with his legs spread, and while I was wiping him with toilet paper and then a wet wipe to clean him thoroughly, I got a good look at his big cock and big low-hanging balls hanging between his legs. I hurried up to dry him before rolling him back, so as not to overly embarrass him.

Frank came home at his usual time at about 6:00 PM, and we had a kind of picnic dinner with Danny in his room so I could feed him. Afterwards I gave Danny a bed bath, where I washed him the best I could with a washcloth and warm, soapy water. I covered his groin area with a towel before washing his upper body, having him lean forward so I could wash his back, and then I washed his upper legs, since the casts were below his knees. Then it was time to wash his groin area and ass. I first rolled him onto his side to wash his ass, and then turned him onto his back.

Lastly, I reached under the towel to wash his cock, balls, and between his legs. I couldn’t resist the temptation of rubbing his cock and balls with the washcloth longer than was essential. Although that had to be embarrassing for Danny, he smiled almost imperceptibly and gave me a knowing glance, acknowledging that he realized I had lingered longer than necessary on his genitals.

Over the next week, Danny became more comfortable with me providing his care and I was less concerned about embarrassing him as I bathed him in bed and handled his other needs. He was becoming less concerned about his privacy too and sometimes wasn’t as careful about covering himself completely when I put the urinal bottle in place and then taking it away.

Some of his friends came over to visit in the evenings, since most of them had summer jobs. His best friend, Tommy, lives only three houses away in our neighborhood, and our family had been friends with his family since he and Danny were toddlers. Tommy came over almost every night, and that helped a lot in relieving Danny’s boredom.

First Intimacy with Danny

By the end of that first week, I was wiping Danny’s cock longer and more thoroughly after he peed, as well as washing his cock and balls longer during his bed baths. One afternoon while I was washing his cock, the washcloth slipped, and my bare hand was on his cock. His cock flexed and began to harden, and I didn’t pull my hand away as fast as I should have, keeping it there for what seemed like a long time in slow-motion, but in reality, just a few seconds.

My face felt hot and red with embarrassment, as I smiled weakly and said, “Oops, sorry, Danny, I guess the washcloth slipped.”

Danny’s face was red too, and he had a guilty look, as he smiled and said, “I’m sorry too, Mom, and I shouldn’t have let my arousal become so obvious. It’s just that, I know you’re my mother and all, but you’re so pretty and you wear those tight t-shirts, and you did leave your hand there longer than just being an accident.”

I need to digress briefly to let you know why Danny thinks I’m pretty. I’m five feet and seven inches tall, and at the time weighed one hundred and twenty-eight pounds. With blonde hair and brown eyes, I look a lot like the actress, Jordana Spiro, who you might know from the Netflix series, ‘Ozark’, and numerous other television shows. My breasts are bigger 32DDs though, and Danny had been watching them sway and jiggle as I cared for him.

Back to what happened with Danny; we had crossed an unspeakable, forbidden boundary, with me touching his cock that way and him acknowledging it. I knew that I should end the discussion and avoid going farther down a dangerous path, but I had for days been getting aroused by his big cock and balls and wanted to see how far he was willing to go.

I wanted my next comments to be somewhat provocative, but still give me room to deny any bad intentions, and I responded, “Again, I’m sorry, Danny, but over this past week, I couldn’t help but notice what a mature young man you’ve become, and uh, you know, how well-endowed you are. I shouldn’t have left my hand there, and I can’t really blame a sixteen-year-old boy with raging hormones for reacting to it, especially with me wearing these tight t-shirts around you with no bra.”

He shyly said, “This is hard to admit, Mom, but it makes it even tougher for me not to react that way to your touch, since before the accident, I had gotten into a routine of, uh, you know, uh, relieving myself two or three times a day by hand. And now, well, I sure can’t use ‘my’ hand to do it.”

The way that he said he couldn’t use ‘my hand’ while emphasizing ‘my’, made me wonder if he was hinting that he wanted help masturbating. I knew that I was going way beyond decency, when I took the chance that was his intention, and I asked, “Well, why didn’t you just say so, honey? I know what teen boys and their hormones are like, after dating plenty of them in my junior and senior years in high school, and goodness knows that I helped plenty of them get off, one way or the other. It would be my pleasure to help you out.”

I could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t think I would pick up on his hint, and he said, “Holy shit, Mom, I, uh, thanks. I’m ready right now, and you’ll just need to lubricate it a little.”

He had obviously been thinking about it for a few days, and after I made that first move by touching his cock, he must have felt emboldened to push it a little with me. Frank wouldn’t be home for another hour, and Danny pulled up his t-shirt in anticipation of his ejaculation as I pushed down the sheet.

With all the experience I had sucking boys in high school and Frank’s cock, it was hard to resist taking his cock into my mouth, but I thought it was best to take it slow. I was standing by the bed on his left side, and I leaned down just above his impressive, soft cock and spit on the cock head, before taking it into my left hand.

It seemed strange for me just to look down at his cock as I stroked it, and I wanted it to be a more loving experience for both of us. So, I moved my right hand behind his head and leaned downed to kiss his forehead, as his cock and hardened within a few seconds to what looked and felt like nine inches long and so thick my fingers barely touched gripping it.

My passion was rising stroking his cock and kissing his forehead, and I shouldn’t have been surprised when Danny had the courage to lean down a little and press his mouth to my t-shirt-covered breasts, at first just pressing and rubbing his face against them, but then focusing on mouthing and sucking my areolas and nipples through the thin material. I interrupted his pleasure momentarily to spit on his cock again, and then moved back to let him continue.

His thick cock felt so meaty in my hand and I was tempted to suck it when I spit on it again. Danny began mouthing and sucking my breasts again, and after another few seconds when I leaned down to kiss his forehead, Danny turned his face to me, and our lips met in a passionate kiss. I held his head, as we probed each other’s mouths with our tongues, and I forgot for a moment that I was kissing my sixteen-year-old son.

We kissed for what seemed like two minutes, until Danny said, while still trying to kiss me, “I love you so much, Mom, and then grunted and moaned, oh, oh, oh, I’m cummiinngg!”

His big cock was throbbing and flexing in my hand, and I watched while spurt after spurt of his thick, white, teen cum splattered on his stomach and chest. I kept stroking his cock as it softened, while I kissed him deeply again.

Danny was coming down from his ejaculation and smiled as he said, “I love you so much, Mom, and I’m so happy that we did this together. I usually jack off in the toilet or in tissues, but sorry, now we have another mess to clean up.”

I had to resist, at least for that first time, licking and sucking his cum from his stomach and chest, and I instead used a towel to wipe up the mess. Then I expressed my love for him, while also teasing him a little, saying, “I love you so much, Danny, and this has been a special experience for us. But what a bad boy you were kissing Mommy and sucking her breasts that way.”

He knew I was teasing, and said, “Oh shit, oh fuck, Mom, that felt so good, and it’s hard to believe that you were willing to help me out this way. And your breasts are so big and firm, I was wishing that you’d taken off your t-shirt. I’m so happy that I experienced at least one of the ways you helped the boys in high school to get them off.”

I kissed him again, and said, “Maybe I’ll tell you or show you more about helping those boys some time. But for now, we have to keep this between us, especially if you would like to do it again. We had special moments, that go far beyond the normal love of a mother and son, and I’m amazed at how passionate you are for your age.”

Danny asked, “You mentioned earlier that I’m well-endowed, and I’m wondering how I compare to Dad, or maybe other men you’ve, uh, you know, other men you’ve been with? And if you’re thinking you might tell or show me more about those boys, does that mean that you’ll…”

His voice trailed off, likely afraid to put into words the idea of me sucking him off or fucking him, and I answered his first question, saying, “Without revealing too much about my sexual experiences, I can honestly say that I’ve never been with a boy or man better-hung than you, Danny. And I’m afraid to say that you’ve got your father beat by a lot. I don’t know whose genes this big thing came from, but you should be proud of it.”

The way I answered his question made it sound like I had had sex with a lot of boys in high school and men later, which was true, and Danny was still pushing to know more about my past, and if we might do more together. He asked, “When will you tell me more about your high school days and other men, and let me know if we can do more together?”

I wanted to think things through and make sure that I was comfortable continuing on an incestuous path with my son, and I replied, “You must know that what we did together was wrong, illegal, and taboo in our society, and I need to think about it. But it felt so natural being with you and kissing you that way, and my goodness, Danny, your cock is amazing and is going to make a lot of girls happy, but you need to learn to treat them right.”

Danny smiled and said, “Okay, Mom, I agree, and I’d like to learn from you.”

I had a few minutes before Frank got home and I’d need to...