A Short Guide to Mother-Son Incest

David remained silent, waiting for her reply. He felt confident his cleverly constructed snare would pay dividends.

Would it hurt to let him touch her, Joan wondered. Maybe it would get it out of his system, maybe it would help him grow out of these silly feelings, and of course she didn't really mind him touching her breast ... well not for a moment or two... and no one would ever know, would they?

She took a deep breath. "Give me your hand," she whispered.

She took her son's hand in hers and slowly lifted it to her left breast. Gently she laid the palm against her chest and pressed it softly home. "There," she said. "You see I do love you."

David's hand cupped his mother's breast and squeezed and fondled it more roughly and purposefully than Joan expected. She felt him tweak the nipple between his fingers, but before she could complain or pull away he slipped his other hand around her neck and pulled her face close to his.

"I love you Mother," he whispered. "You're the most wonderful mother in the world, and I'm so lucky to have a mother like you!"

Trapped by the kindness of his words she let him continue to massage her breast. She simply had no idea what to say or how to stop him, and so she remained silent even as his other hand left her neck and fixed itself on her right breast. She felt him pawing at her tits like some licentious animal, his lustful actions belying his words of love, but she said nothing. Eventually his hands left her breasts and slid up to embrace her cheeks. Then he pulled her face to his and kissed her full on the lips.

After a moment he pulled away and looked deep into her bleak and bewildered eyes. "Thank you Mummy," he said quietly. "You're the best. I don't deserve you."

IV

Slowly the trap closed around Joan and there seemed to be nothing she could do to escape. Although she thought she'd given David a one-off opportunity to touch her chest, apparently he didn't see it that way. He seemed to believe she'd declared open season on her body and every night now his hands would eventually stray to her breasts. Likewise if they cuddled whilst standing up his hands would now run down over her bottom, and he would even use her buttocks to pull her body close to his ... so close she could feel his hard member crushed up against her. He seemed to feel he was free to caress her legs, running his hands over her thighs at will, although he had not as yet attempted to reach up inside her dress.

It was three nights after he had first fondled her breast he mentioned her stockings. It was late and he was lying on the sofa with his head on her lap and his hand on her knee. They had both had several drinks though neither was intoxicated.

"How come you never wear your stockings any more Mom?" David asked.

Inevitably Joan failed to see anything in the question beyond a polite enquiry. "They are out of fashion these days," she said. "And besides tights are more comfortable once you get used to them."

"That's sad; I liked you in your stockings. They make your legs look so nice ... and tights are horrible!"

His mother smiled. "I still have some stockings around somewhere I think ..." She stopped suddenly wondering if this talk of stockings was more dangerous than she first thought.

"Would you wear them for me Mom, I just love to see you in your seamed stockings?"

Joan was silent, uncertain now where this was going or what to say.

"Mom?" said David as the silence stretched on.

"Er ... yes if you want. I'm not sure if I really have any ... but I'll have a look."

His mother was backing away and David knew it.

"Tomorrow night!" he said firmly. "I'll look forward to it. You really are an incredible mom."

The following evening Joan was in her bedroom with a pair of brown seamed stockings draped over her hand and a white suspender belt lying across her knees. She was sitting at her dressing table looking at herself in the mirror, and wondering where the situation with David was leading. He was touching her freely now and she was beginning to feel like his girlfriend, or more accurately his plaything. She was scared he would go further and she wouldn't be able to stop him.

She looked at the stockings and wondered again if she should actually put them on. If she did it would be another signal to David she was willing to do his bidding ... and he might want to touch them and feel her legs. But if she refused he would sulk again and make her feel selfish and inconsiderate. What should she do? How far should she let him go?

She kept asking herself if she really minded him touching her. Yes it was incestuous and considered immoral by society, but if nobody ever knew was it really that bad? After all in this day and age people seemed to engage in all kinds of strange sexual acts and nobody appeared to mind or even object. Did it really matter if her lonely son took a little comfort from kissing and cuddling his mother?

She stood up, slipped off her skirt, and began to put on her suspender belt. Almost without thinking she slid the stockings over her legs and attached them to the clips. As she used the mirror to straighten the seams she found herself admiring her own legs. 'They make me look sexy' she thought, and for the first time she imagined herself being with David, her son. She had a sudden vision of him fondling her stocking clad legs, his fingers lightly running up over her bare thighs and touching her intimately. She felt a sudden heat as she imagined his hands on her breasts, his hardness against her moist centre, his fingers wriggling under her panties.

"No," she whispered to herself, shaking her head to dispel the vision. "No I can't ... I mustn't let that happen."

At that moment the bedroom door opened and David walked in.

She spun round and cried out "David! What ... what are you doing in here?" Her voice was breathless and she looked embarrassed, as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't. He just stood there calmly looking at her, and for some reason she felt he must know what she'd been thinking.

Indeed she was so disturbed by his unexpected appearance she forgot for a moment her skirt was on the floor, and she was showing her son a vision of his mother in stockings, suspenders and panties. Then she looked down at herself and with a cry tried to gather up her skirt.

David stepped forward. "No!" he commanded, "stay as you are Mother. You look wonderful dressed like that. You're not only beautiful but so so sexy."

He moved up to close to his mother, grabbed the skirt from her hand and threw it on the bed. Then his hands reached up to the buttons of her white blouse and began to undo them.

"We need to complete the vision," he said with a smile as his fingers deftly released the buttons.

For a moment Joan froze in surprised, them she reached up and grabbed his hands. "No ... David no!"

"Oh come on Mother," he said gently. "You wouldn't have worn those stockings if you didn't want me to see them. Admit it, you want me to see your body ... to admire you and touch you and want you."

"No ..." Joan whispered again, but her hands fell away from his and she allowed him to continue to remove her blouse.

He tossed the blouse on the bed next to her skirt and stepped back to admire his mother, dressed only in her lingerie. He slowly looked her up and down until she began to feel embarrassed and uncomfortable. Then he smiled widely at her.

"Take off your brassiere Mother," he said softly.

Joan looked her son in dismay. "David, don't ask that please."

"Do as I say Mother, take it off. You know I won't be happy until I've see your breasts."

"David ... no!"

"You let me touch them," he whispered. "Is it so different to let me see them?"

Joan felt trapped again by his argument. Indeed she felt powerless and at his mercy, and she was hardly aware as her own hands reached around behind her back and slipped the catch on her bra. She felt more than ever like his toy as she released the bra from her breasts and dropped it on the ground in front of him.

For a long time he stood staring at his mother's breasts. They were small like he remembered, but with wonderful full dark nipples. As he watched he was sure he could see her nipples hardening till they were standing proud, like miniature towers on a distant hilltop. He wondered idly if his mother was cold ... or was she excited? Whatever, he wanted nothing more than to engulf those nipples in his mouth and suckle at them like a child.

At length he said, "Now remove your panties Mother."

Joan stared at her son, and for a long time she was unmoving and silent. He stared back and their eyes locked as if in conflict. She was struggling both with his will and with her own. She knew she shouldn't do this, but she also knew everything that had happened over the last few weeks had led inevitably to this point. Either she must reject her son entirely or she must let him have his way. There was no compromise and she must decide. But there didn't really seem to be any choice for in the end she needed him.

Besides he was too strong for her, to damn determined and persistent.

With a sigh that indicated her defeat, she bent down and slowly removed her panties, throwing them on the bed along with her clothes.

"Satisfied now!" she said angrily

Joan's mind was in turmoil as her son intimately explored her body with his eyes. She was embarrassed beyond belief whilst at the same time aroused and breathless. She had no idea what was going to happen next, and worse she had no will left to alter or control events.

David just stood there. He seemed calm, and appeared to be enjoying not only his mother's nakedness but her discomfort too. He was fully in control and he knew it.

"So it seems my Mother is a slut after all," he said at last. "Willing to strip naked in front of her son, willing to do whatever she's told. I always knew you were a filthy dirty bitch ... but who am I to disappoint you."

As he said this he undid his trousers and let them fall to the floor. His underpants bulged at the front under the pressure of his rock hard penis. He slipped his pants over his member and let it spring free, erect and challenging.

"This is what you want isn't it Mother?" he breathed.

Joan stood rigid; staring wide-eyed at her son's engorged cock.

He moved closer to her. "Time for Mummy to get down on her knees I think."

For a moment she didn't seem to understand what he'd said, or what he meant, and she looked up at him with a puzzled expression. Then she suddenly realised what he wanted and a small gasp escaped her lips.

"David, no!" she said for the third time. "I'm your ... your mother. I can't do that ... I won't ..."

David stared into his mother's eyes. "You'll do exactly as you're told," he said.

Then he lifted his hands to his mother's shoulders and began to exert a downward pressure. Slowly, reluctantly, she slid down until she was on her knees in front of him, her eyes and mouth only inches from his penis.

"Open your mouth Mummy," he said softly.

Joan looked pleadingly up into his eyes, but he just smiled down at her and whispered, "All the best mummy's do this for their little boys you know. Now open wide ..."

Slowly, as tears welled up in her eyes, Joan opened her mouth and allowed her son to push his hard cock in between her lips.

She was in a kind of daze, knowing that what she was doing was wrong, and yet still trying to believe in the innocence of her son. She was shocked therefore to feel his hands slide roughly behind her head and her face being pulled hard down against his crotch, and hard member being forced down into her throat. Moving her head back and forward, David began a rhythmic movement that pushed his penis in and out of her mouth in an increasingly violent manner.

"Suck me Mummy," he whispered. "Suck your little boy's cock like the good mummy you are!"

Not knowing what she was doing Joan tried to suck his cock as lovingly as she could. But the movement was too violent and she began to choke repeatedly as his penis was thrust further and further down her throat. David was fucking his mother's mouth as hard as he could. His held bunches of her hair in his hands as he thrust her head back and forward like some inconsequential sex toy. He ignored her choking and spluttering noises as he took from his mother what he had wanted for so long.

He seemed oblivious to her struggles, concerned only with the fulfilment of his own lust and maximizing his pleasure. As his cock pounded her face and throat he was both raping her mouth and punishing her at the same time. Finally with a roar like an animal he crushed her head tighter and tighter against his groin, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper down. Then he flooded her mouth with his cum, ejecting more and more until she sounded like she was drowning in a sea of white sticky liquid. But David's only response was to press her face harder still to his crotch and whisper, "swallow it Mummy, swallow it all you bitch."

Eventually he pulled her head away and flung her by the hair on to the bed. She lay there choking and coughing and gagging, a trickle of tears running down her face and mixing unnoticed with the white trails of cum leaking from her mouth.

V

David sat on the corner of the bed, his chest heaving from the exertion of his massive orgasm. He was idly stroking his mother's thigh and staring absently at the seams running up her stockings. Despite the intensity of his recent release he was allowing the view of his Mother's stocking-tops to rekindle his passion.

Joan just lay there; occasionally wiping her mouth, as if the rid herself of both the taste and the trauma to which she had just been subjected. She was still crying softly and silently.

After his virtual rape of his mother's mouth, David's mood seemed to change. He suddenly lay down on the bed and took his mother in his arms and began to stroke her hair.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. "That was very wrong of me ... but I couldn't help myself. I've wanted you for so long and I've fantasised about being in your mouth so much, I just sort of lost control."

Joan lifted her head, her eyes still wet and red from crying. "That was awful, awful ... how could you do such a monstrous thing to me? How could you do THAT to your own mother?"

David looked down at the floor as if ashamed. "I'm so sorry ... I won't do it again, I promise."

Joan turned over and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She made no attempt to cover her nakedness, as if some point of intimacy had been past and all attempts to maintain their previous relationship were pointless. For a long time neither of them spoke again.

At length David crept up beside her and laid his face against her breasts. Slowly and very carefully he slipped his mouth around a nipple and began to suckle it. In contrast to earlier he was very tender and gentle, almost as if he were kissing it better. After a while he lifted his head and began to kiss his mother's neck and cheek, and eventually her mouth.

With a studied softness her pressed his lips against hers and whispered. "I do love you mummy ... more than anything else in the world."

Joan turned her face to him and looked deep in his eyes. "What do you want from me?" she said quietly but without emotion.

"I want to love you," he whispered.

Still looking him in the eyes she said with venom, "You mean you want to fuck me!"

"No ..." he replied softly. "I want to make love to you."

"You want to use me for your pleasure," she said, and he could hear the bitterness in her voice. "That's all you ever wanted, to use me ... to make me your sex toy."

As she looked in his face she expected him to deny it, to try and get her back to some semblance of normality so he get more from her, so he could use her body in some other way. She assumed he thought she now was under his control, his plaything to do with as he wished. She wondered if he was right and she was ...

So she was surprised when he smiled and said, "Yes I want you to be my sex toy ..."

She started to reply angrily but he interrupted her.

"And I want to be your toy-boy. Don't you understand Mother; I want us to have a relationship ... to be a couple. I want to love you and for you to love me. If I could I'd ask you to marry me."

Surprised by his words, she looked at him silently.

"And I think you'd like the same thing too. I think you'd quite like a son you could look after and talk to during the day ... and then take to your bed at night. You're lonely, I know you are. I could be more than just someone to talk to. I could give you something new to live for ... and satisfy you too. What do you think?"

She looked at him thoughtfully. "But it's wrong," she whispered. "It's incest."

David took his Mother's face in his hands and brought his lips to hers. He kissed her softly and whispered, "Yes it is ... and that's what makes it so much fun!"

Slowly and softly he kissed her again. But this time he held the kiss ... and after a few moments he felt her lips press harder to his. Then before he knew it her mouth was open and they were kissing passionately. Even after all he'd said he was surprised by her sudden response, and it was with great caution he slid his hand up to embraced his mother's breast.

But something had changed in Joan, something sudden and unexpected. She threw her arms around him and crushed her mouth to his, and before he knew what was happening, David found himself being hauled up and on to her body. Her legs slipped open and he felt her hand reaching down for his penis and pulling it towards her cunt.

"Fuck me then you little shit!" she hissed in his ear. "Give it to me ... give it to ... to mummy! Fuck your mummy ... that's what you want isn't it?"

In an instant she had guided him up and inside her, and she was using his buttocks to drag him as deep as she could. He wanted to taste the moment, to revel in the fact he was finally inside his own mother's vagina, but she wouldn't wait. It was almost as if the earlier situation were reversed. She wanted him now, hard and strong and brutal. She was writhing and thrusting and taking back from him what he'd earlier stolen from her.

"Fuck me boy!" she groaned at him. "Be a good boy and fuck mummy! Fuck her as hard as you can!"

David tried to respond, thrusting himself in and out and hard as he could.

Joan's breathing was becoming frantic as she ground herself around his cock. He always thought women took a long time to get excited so he was both shocked and surprised but the suddenness of her transformation. For a moment he wondered if the idea of incest was as much a turn-on for her as it was for him.

He heard her murmuring. "Squeeze mummy's tits you fucking little shit. Grope me, feel my stockings, tear my clothes, fuck me, fuck your poor mummy!"

He grabbed both her tits in his hands and twisted the nipples. She screamed, but then she threw her arms back as if to open her chest to him, and writhed about screaming, almost as if she were being molested.

"How can you do this?" she wailed. "Oh God, my little boy is fucking me. He's fucking his own mummy!"

Suddenly she wrapped her legs around her son's torso and squeezed so tight that for a moment he couldn't breathe. He felt her hands on his buttocks pushing so hard it seemed as if she were trying to drive his whole body up inside her. Then she screamed again, but this time in pleasure as her body arched and her legs crushed David so hard he thought for a moment his back was going to break.

"Oh David," she wailed. "You dirty boy, you dirty dirty little boy ..."

As they lay there she held him tight, so tight it seemed as if she would never let him go, and then she whispered in his ear.

"I guess Mummy is yours now ... You can have her anyway you want, whenever you want! What a naughty naughty boy you are ..."