How I seduced my son, My name is Sharon. The following story is more of a written recount of how I came to seduce my son, Jake. At 37 I was a fit mother of two. My husband Chuck was an accountant for one of the big 4 firms and with his long hours I rarely got to see him beyond the breakfast table. This had been the case for a few years however, and I had grown accustomed to the lifestyle. My son was in high school, and my daughter had moved out, which left me home for hours at a time with little to do except work out and keep up with the household chores. My sex life at the time was a thing of the past, and outside of the occasional masturbation while I was home alone, I didn’t get any action. I believed that I was fine with this though. My kids were happy, my husband was happy that we had money, and I was happy that everyone else was happy.
I have a son named Jake and a daughter named Jennifer. Jennifer was 21 and no longer lived at home at the time (I think I mentioned this), and in case it evaded notice, I had her when I was only 16. Let’s just say I was an “active” teenager, and that Chuck and I had been together for a long time. My son Jake was still living at home. He was an 18 year old senior in high school. I don’t think my son really fits into any particular category; he’s a smart, athletic boy who has no trouble getting girls. I suppose if I had to place him now he would be a jock.
I guess it’s important for me to describe our figures. I think an accurate image is essential when reading another person’s recollection. I was very serious about my physique. Without an active sex life I really had nobody to turn to for confidence except my own reflection. I was a fair woman with long, black hair. I have a tattoo of a red rose behind my left shoulder, which I to this day enjoy showing off with a spaghetti strap shirt or the occasional sundress (I had this touched up!). I’ve always been tall for a woman, 5 feet and 10 inches at 150 pounds. Mind you I’m mostly muscle, so don’t let weight contribute too much to your imagination. I put great effort into keeping my ass nice and round, and with a natural D cup I never really saw fit to complain about my image. My son had become a handsome young man, he reminded me so much of his father when we were in high school, if not a little more fit. He had thick brown hair and a certain intensity most of the time that must have made the girls at school swoon. He was 6 feet and 3 inches tall with a lean, muscled build that any young man should be proud of. I always thought his coaches were too hard on him, but he seemed to enjoy the discipline. Even then I had to admit he was an eye full… sometimes I would sneak peeks at him coming out of the bathroom to see his six pack. I won’t go into detail with what my daughter looked like as she won’t really be relative in this particular story. My husband was a stocky man at 39 years old with the same brown hair as our son save for the few grays. I still found him an attractive man, but I really haven’t had much flare for him since before we had Jake.
I think this is a sufficient enough introduction, and with that aside, my story starts in early august, not long after the start of school.
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The sweltering heat of a dying summer still clung on and even with the air conditioning it was usually warm in the house. I only convey this detail to remind you how normal it is to dress a little more… freely.
7:00 AM. The alarm clock went off with a blaring flurry of beeping and my eyes flashed open. After several years I really had no trouble waking up in the mornings, and it surely helped that I followed a fitness regimen that varied with the month of the year. I hit the snooze button on the alarm. Chuck was still snoring beside me as I crawled out of bed, slipping on my favorite silk black robe and a making my way toward the kitchen. I had 30 minutes to whip up a pot of coffee for chuck and something to eat for he and my son, who I would surely have to drag out of bed as I had for the past week. The summer seemed to have made him a heavy sleeper.
With the coffee pot full and plenty of scrambled eggs and bacon to go around I headed back up the stairs. I could hear the shower running in the master bathroom and could only assume that Chuck had gotten tired of hitting the snooze button and thus made his way out of bed. I stopped at my son’s bedroom door and knocked loudly.”Wake up Jake! Breakfast is ready honey.” I yelled. Normally this worked, but as it was a Monday, I couldn’t lie to myself by saying I hadn’t had my doubts. With a sigh I knocked loudly once again, repeating my honest claim even louder. No answer. “That boy..” I mumbled, shaking my head and opening the door.
What I saw I can honestly share with you was the beginning of a terribly dark fantasy that I would not have ever imagined myself considering. There lay my son on his back, sprawled blanket-less across his bed, his cheek against his pillow, in a deep slumber. I gasped softly, a little embarrassed to the noteworthy fact that he was naked. Now I knew he slept in the nude, but I hadn’t witnessed him in this particular… light. You see, to his left lay a magazine, and I hardly need to specify its type. His right hand lay limply against his inner thigh and he was sporting what I’ll tell you was the most impressive morning hard-on I had ever seen. ‘God!’ I thought to myself shamefully ‘It must be at least ten inches long! And so.. thick…’ My heart was pounding in my chest and I swallowed hard as I stared at my own son’s erection with an expression that must have conveyed shameful longing. And those abs! I felt so hot, and for the first time in a very long while I was genuinely horny. I could feel the moisture between my legs. I’ve always been a wet girl, and I knew if I’d stayed any longer it would be trickling down my legs.
Jake stirred suddenly, and in a panic I quickly backed out of his bedroom, closing the door quietly and clearing my throat. I knocked once more, even louder than before, and despite having just been flustered, yelled purposefully “Jake! you wake up right now! you have school!”
An exaggerated yawn followed by my sons tired voice finally responded “I’m up, I’m up! You don’t have to yell!”
“Easy for you to say” I said, “That was three times I had to knock. Now get a move on! Good morning dear” As Chuck had just passed by me, dressed in his work attire and making his way toward the kitchen,
“Morning” he responded groggily, he never was much of a talker before he had his coffee. I followed him down and took my seat across the table. Chuck already had his nose buried in a newspaper and was taking the occasional sip of black coffee as I heard the upstairs shower turn on.
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