Incest stories, How a mother and son enjoyed their holiday, I’d made love, I’d had sex, I’d slept with men and I’d been shagged and fucked by them. Peter and I did all those things. Yet, at the same time, we did none of them. What we did was so much more than any of those. So much more than all of them put together. So much more, both emotionally and physically than I had ever felt a woman could do with a man unless, of course that man was her son!
It was ironic really. I had agonised over the decision so much and for so long, but then, in the end, I made it so quickly and executed it so fast.
I was about to get dressed to join him on the terrace. I was in my bedroom, naked having just come out of the shower. Looking at my body helped me with the decision. I think for the first time since we had been in Italy I saw my body as my son had been seeing it. My full breasts on which he had suckled, my seemingly, almost permanently erect nipples, my, nearly, but not quite, flat stomach that had stretched for him, my respectably long and relatively slender tanned legs. Also my ash grey, shoulder length hair and my slightly, but not overly so for my forty four years, lined face all reflected back to me from the full length mirror just, I realised as he would see them.
They reflected back to me just as they would have been to him as he had removed my bikini in the pool last night, as he had gazed at me in the water, as we stood naked embracing on the side and finally as we had lain naked in my bed.
That had been too soon, though. We were not ready. I was not attuned to having sex with my son. The enormity was too great and the realisation that he wanted me as much as I wanted him was so recent.
Now it was different. Now I had grown used to my son wanting to have sex with me and I had accepted that I wanted, so badly, to have sex with him. Yes I had accepted those facts, intellectually and physically, but not really emotionally. My body was in total accord with that, but my mind was only partially on board with those sentiments. As I looked at myself in the mirror I began to let my body rule my mind. That did it for me.
Slipping naked under the single sheet in the large four poster bed I made a decision. Fate would be the decider. If you came to my room we would make love, if you didn’t then we wouldn’t. It was, in the end as simple as that, just like flipping a coin, heads or tails; just like a switch, on or off.
Of course you came. Not quickly, but eventually. I heard the sound of your footsteps outside my room; I had left the door ajar. I heard you cough announcing that you was there. I was lying in the bed naked and rigidly tight with expectation, hope and anticipation. Slowly the door was pushed open, creaking slightly. With the shutters closed it was dim, almost dark. I vaguely made out your shape.
“Come in Peter, come closer,” I croaked. I was so nervous I could hardly speak. I was doing the ultimate act that a mother can do with a son; I was offering myself to him.
You moved closer, you would be able to see me now, I looked at you and our eyes locked. In what was really a totally uncharacteristic gesture or movement for me with anyone let alone my son, I slowly lifted the sheet up and away from me. I exposed my nakedness to you, I revealed my nudity and readiness to you, yes, I flaunted the body that was making this decision at you.
Your eyes opened a little wider at the sight and even wider as I said.
“Come to bed with me Peter, come and make love to me.” I wanted to say ‘Come and fuck me, come and shove your cock up your mother’s cunt:’ I need to be sexually expressive when highly aroused. And boy was I highly aroused, but my instincts told me that our relationship was not ready for such words, well not yet at least.
“Oh God yes,” you groaned, moving towards the bed.
I smiled. “No, undress for me first, come to my bed naked as I am.”
You needed no second invitation and quickly you pulled the tee shirt over your head and started fumbling with your belt and zip.
“Slowly Peter, take it easy,” I whispered, partly trying to relax you and partly because I wanted to savour every second of you becoming naked in preparation of making love to me; it was such a huge thing, such a seminal moment in both our lives.
As your shorts and boxers dropped to the marble tiled floor I could hardly suppress a gasp of pleasure at the wondrous sight. You were rampantly erect with your long, sturdy cock rearing right up your flat stomach. If the male form can be beautiful, I was thinking as I stretched my arms out to you, then your youthful, lithe, firm body and stirringly hard cock epitomised everything of beauty in your gender.
Peter
It was more than I could ever have hoped for: my mother lying in bed naked, lifting up the sheet to show me her gorgeous body and asking me to make love to her. It was all I had been dreaming about for so long.
She looked so beautiful, so sexy, so alluring and so, what was I searching for, yes available. She now clearly wanted me. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. I could see by the look in her eyes and the way she moved that something had changed. She no longer looked furtive, guilty or concerned. She wasn’t taught and resistant with her movements. She seemed at ease with herself. She didn’t hide her body from me, didn’t try to divert my gaze. Instead, in the nicest and most appropriate way, she was flaunting it at me as if to say ‘Here’s my body, the body that bore you, it was yours then and is yours now, so take it, have it, fuck it.’ And how fucking awesome was that!
I whipped my tee shirt off and fumbled with my shorts as my eyes roamed over what was soon to be mine. The luscious breasts, the stomach, the thighs and the pubic covered mound guarding your most precious place. I slowed down as you told me and then slid my shorts and boxers down. God was I hard.
“Come here baby,” you whispered wiggling over to the side of the bed as I came and stood by that. You raised yourself up into a half sitting position and went on “Are you sure about this darling?”
Cat
As I moved so close that I could smell your male muskiness and see the bloated veins on the underside of your cock, I felt I had to give you one more chance to back out from what, in all probability, would be a life changing act.
“I have never been more certain mum, sorry Cat,” You said quietly just before I took your gorgeous erection in both of my hands.
At that moment as I brought my face close to it, I was sure I had never seen anything so beautiful and desirable in my entire forty four years.
I looked up at you and stared right into your eyes. We looked at each other for a moment or two as I softly caressed the smooth, hard, hot, throbbing cock and stroked your balls with my fingertip.
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