Her Second Chance A birth mother and her son fall in love after meeting, incest stories, Linda Harris sat quietly on the edge of her bed watching the seconds hand on the wall clock by the door slowly come full circle again and again. This was supposed to have been a happy day for her, but deep down she knew something had gone terribly wrong. She wondered to herself repeatedly how any normal human being could feel what she was feeling at that moment.
Just a few hours earlier Linda had finally saw one of her few dreams come true when she met her biological son at his motel room at the Days Inn just down the street. She had given him up for adoption when she was sixteen, and had subsequently spent the next twenty-six years thinking and wondering about him.
She had received a phone call two weeks earlier from her brother, the man her son had managed to locate after having received a copy of his birth certificate and cold calling around until he had contacted one of her cousins. Michael had informed her of her son’s desire to meet her and passed along the phone number he had been given. She was ecstatic when she heard her son’s voice for the first time.
John Wilson had offered to come to her and meet her at the motel so that she wouldn’t have to even consider making a long trip to him. He lived in Newark, Delaware, while she was in Jacksonville, Florida.
Because she was still unhappily married to a man who had a tenacity to make fast enemies out of her closest friends, she agreed to meet him at the motel rather than invite him to stay with her.
And today had been the day she met him.
She had gone to the motel not knowing what to expect or what he would look like, but from the first moment that she saw his face, she knew that he was an almost mirror image of the man she had loved so many years ago. The resemblance had been so striking that she found herself spending more time listening to him than speaking, since her mind was awash in memories of the man she still thought about in spite of his having abandoned her the day he learned of her pregnancy.
John wasn’t a Navy man as his biological father had been, but that may have been the only difference between them. Standing at six feet tall and possessing naturally curly brown hair and baby blue eyes, he would have looked exactly like his father had he been wearing a naval outfit. She even believed that John’s voice was eerily similar to his father’s, or at least to what his father’s voice had sounded like twenty-six years earlier.
John might as well have met his mother dressed to impress. He had looked exceptionally handsome in black denim jeans, a white silk shirt unbuttoned at the top, and a black corduroy jacket. Rounding off his outward appearance were a pair of Nike’s that looked brand new.
Linda had gone to meet him dressed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a light blue shirt under a thin white jacket, with high-heeled shoes topping off her outfit.
The smell of her son’s cologne, which he identified as Angel, had simply been the icing on this cake that she had sat and stared at for almost two hours while he briefly went through various details of his life. She had forgotten most of what he had said, if she had even really heard it to begin with.
As she sat in her own bedroom going over everything that had happened at the motel, she thought that just maybe, if her son hadn’t been eyeing her the way he was, perhaps she wouldn’t be feeling so peculiar. Or maybe it had been a combination of that along with his quick glance at her behind when he thought she hadn’t noticed as she had walked to the bathroom. Or maybe it was both of those in addition to the way he had told her how unexpectedly beautiful a woman he had found her to be.
Had it not been for the fact that he was a perfect gentleman who physically reminded her so much of her former love, she might have walked away from the motel thinking that her son was a mixed up pervert who was abnormally interested in his mother. But then again, it was she who was sitting alone wondering if she was herself such a fiend for feeling something for the man she had given birth to.
John had told her that he would be staying at the motel for ten days. Meeting his mother was the reason he had chosen to take his annual vacation in Florida, and so she knew that she would be able to see him the next day. But she was nervous. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him again. She wanted to see him very much, and yet she feared that she would be going to see him for the wrong reasons. Terrible reasons.
————————————————
John Wilson had never been able to understand how his fetish for older women and mother/son incest originally came about. All he knew for sure was that he enjoyed stealing looks at beautiful mature women and wondering each time he would see one walking around with her young son in tow if the boy had ever scored with his mother.
Whatever the underlying cause might have been, one thing that certainly was not the cause was the woman who had adopted him. The mother who had raised him had never done or said anything that might have contributed to this, and he had never felt the slightest bit interested in her romantically.
He had felt comfortable driving down to Florida with the thought that whoever and whatever his biological mother turned out to be, she would be no different from his adoptive mother in that neither would be anywhere on his radar screen. Besides, he knew from his conversations with her on the phone that she was married, and this surely would put any interest he might have found in her to a quick death.
All this changed within an instant the moment he opened the door and saw his birth mother for the first time. Without a doubt, her beauty and his fetish collided, and he knew he would have a difficult time trying not to think about her the way he did other mature mothers he had never known personally and would probably never meet.
Linda had been exquisite for a woman of beauty, especially in light of her being forty-two. Such an age was usually around the peak for women he had found highly desirable, and Linda must surely have been at her peak.
Her hair was every bit as brown as his own, lacking only the natural curls that his had. Her eyes were the same color, and her face couldn’t have been any more attractive had he been able to adjust it himself. Even in those first few seconds he had been unable to resist quickly glancing down at her shapely figure. Those breasts he felt himself immediately wanting to taste were just as alluring as her legs and hips.
Pages:
[