Asking For It

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Mother struggles with her son's deep desires
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Mikelh
Mikelh
2,252 Followers

"Oh my God!" That was all I could think when he asked me. When I told my son I wanted to give him something special for the holidays, the last thing I expected him to do was point and say, "those mom." I looked at him like he was crazy or maybe I was because he couldn't have been pointing to my breasts, so I mumbled something and just looked at him.

He was staring back into my eyes and he kissed my cheek and said, "Mom, "You're so beautiful...just once, I'd like to touch you." I heard it right. I guess the sane thing to do would have been just to laugh as if it was a joke and walk away but I was incredulous so I continued the conversation.

"Honey, why would you be interested in an old lady's boobs, especially your mothers? There are plenty of young girls out there that would be..."

He cut me off and said, "Look I'm sorry I said anything, let's just forget it; why don't you buy me a shirt?"

Was I smart enough to let it go...of course not? What could be wrong with a little more 'communication'? And of course I was intrigued, and that's what got me into trouble. "Sweetheart is it that you're curious about women because...?"

"Mom I've slept with enough girls and I'm not curious...what I am is...I just think about you all the time and you...make me feel different than other girls do. You're the only one I'm really attracted to."

"Oh Tommy honey that's so sweet but...maybe it's because since your father died, you've been alone with me in this house. It's been ten years...this is probably all my fault...I probably kept you to myself to much...I should have made you go out more...I..."

"Mom it's not your fault...unless you're to blame for being so beautiful and having a body that would make any guy hard."

I felt myself turn crimson. I know I'm all right looking for someone pushing forty, but I'm not God's gift to men...but...I stood looking into the eyes of someone who thought I was. It's not that I didn't know Tommy found me attractive but I always thought his complimenting my hair or my legs was as his mother...and the big bulge I often saw in his pants; I figured that was just a young guy's hormones...and since I'm a very physical person, when he touched me I always thought it was...'innocent'.

He moped around for days and was mostly uncommunicative so when the holidays came around I thought to myself, "Oh what the hell, it's not such a big deal...and it's cheaper than a car." When he came home I sat him down next to me on the couch and said, "Happy birthday Bucko; you have five minutes and not a minute more."

I unbuttoned my blouse, reached back and unhooked my bra freeing my breasts. I'm very fair skinned and blushing brought a pink flush almost to my nipples. My boobs probably look bigger than they are because I'm slim. "He's getting a bonus," I thought, because they were swollen from my period. They were also sensitive and tender.

Tommy said I was beautiful and I closed my eyes so he could enjoy his 'gift' without feeling self-conscious. I waited in anticipation of his touch. I flinched a little in surprise when instead of his hands; I felt his mouth on me. His warm lips surrounded my nipple; his tongue massaged the rubbery tip, and he suckled.

My second surprise was how it made me feel. I don't know what I thought my part in this whole thing would be but I was feeling the effects of his sucking down to my pussy. He cupped the tit and began gently fondling it as his mouth continued attending to my nipple. "What am I doing?" I thought. "I'm letting my son fondle me and I'm so wet it seems to be dripping down my thigh."

I started to float and lost track of time as he went from breast to breast and nipple to nipple with his hands and mouth. I felt stimulated, sore and alive. It must have been at least a half hour later when Tommy said, "Thank you mom, that was best present I ever got. I love you for doing this."

I sat there stunned and realized he was buttoning my blouse. I managed to stutter, "...Your welcome dear..."

I spent a restless night and the next morning I was in a daze. I didn't know what to think or how to think it. I came into the kitchen and Tommy had made the coffee and was leaving for work. He came up to me and put his lips an inch from mine. I didn't move. He whispered, "Good morning mom"; and then his mouth gently caressed mine. He laid his hand on my breast and his thumb crossed over my nipple. In my fog all I could focus on was the fact that I wasn't stopping him.

I was relieved when he released my aching breast. He left and said, "See you this afternoon." It was my day off and I was left with the turmoil of my life whirling around me. I knew I had to sort it out before my son came home.

After getting through the muck of my thoughts and the maelstrom of my feelings, I had it all set. As soon as my son got home I would tell him in no uncertain term that this whole 'business' was over. I paced for the rest of the afternoon until I heard his key in the door. Before he could say "hello" I said, "Tommy, I know this wasn't your fault but we've got to stop..." I never finished the sentence.

"No" he said and kissed me. "Because I love you and I know you love me." He kissed me again and I was in his enfolding arms. All I managed was a few 'buts' as I tasted his contagious desire. His hand slipped under the light bra and I felt my nipple stiffen between his fingers.

When he reached between my legs, I pulled back and adamantly said, "NO, NO, NO."

He said, "All right mom" and went back to kissing me.

This became our pattern over the next few weeks. He knew when I said something like "We shouldn't," it meant "Yes baby do that to me," and when I said "NO", it was a line he shouldn't cross; and he didn't. The problem for me was that my handsome, dark haired, blue eyed, desirous, and desirable son was making me blur the line; like letting him put his hand in my panties and glide it over what he called the smoothest ass he ever felt. I liked it. I liked it too much.

Most of the early 'goings on' seemed to take place in the kitchen, in the morning; which led to fantasies in the afternoon and masturbation at night. More and more I was wondering...this...and that...and what it would feel like to...?

The first time I touched the bulge in his pants, we were kissing on the couch. The only light was from the TV that we weren't watching. I was surprised how far down his leg it went. He immediately reached between my legs and this time I didn't protest. I started breathing hard as he reached into my panties. I was slick and his fingers came up wet to my clit. His fingers felt better than mine on me. He held my swollen nub between his fingers and gently rubbed. I had never done myself quite that way and it was exciting enough for me to squeeze his cock more in reaction to what I was feeling than any attempt to masturbate him. The difference was lost on him because after a short while he was saying, "Oh...oh...mom...mom..." and I felt him jerking and coming. I unzipped his pants and put my hand in to rub the last few spurts out of the thick cock I was touching for the first time. I wanted to come so badly.

His hand was still on my pussy and I whispered to him, "Rub me like you were doing before baby." He was kissing me and telling me he loved me and I was climbing. I got so excited I dug my nails into his arm as he did that wonderful thing on my wet clit. When he put his fingers into me, I heard a low moan coming from my mouth that started in my belly. It had been three or four years since a man brought me off; and when I started to come, I made a noise that sounded like squealing. I was breathing hard as I petted my son's sweet hands and fingers. I felt the total relief of the orgasm for a moment but if ever there was a time for second thoughts, it was right then, after my son had just made me come.

Second thoughts, third thoughts and fourth thoughts plagued me for days. I didn't let Tommy kiss me, touch me or come near me. I told him I loved him and I didn't blame him but I needed to come to grips with this thing that was going on between us. He said, "I understand mom, but I'm never going to stop loving you and wanting you and needing you." That didn't help.

That night I fantasized about my son. I put my hand between my legs and started to masturbate. It was like watching a movie. I heard my voice narrating in my head. As I rubbed, I told myself this story about how my son would love me:

"He's kissing me and his hands will soon be on my breasts. It's where he always goes first. He bares them and fondles them until he sees my nipples harden so he can tug on the long tips. The points, which connected us nineteen years ago, connect us again. My breasts which were heavy with milk are now heavy with maturity and they warm in my son's hands, the hands that find me at all hours of the day and night. He kisses me and says, 'I love you mother...it's ok...everything is going to be all right.'

I'm wearing the white lacy thong and stockings he laid out for me. He puts out the things he wants me to wear. I always put them on. He'll make me wear the veil. I'll be the bride tonight because he wants me to be all things to him. Tomorrow maybe I'll be the whore...or the slave...but in the end my son will have me...like he will every night.

His wet finger is on my clit and I'm starting to get lost in the wash of feelings that come over me when he does that thing: slow circles over the button and tender strokes over the soft puffy lips. A thousand kisses and a thousand bouquets of 'I love you' melt me...and wet me. I surrender to the garland of his love and the hardness that's in my hand. I stroke him impossibly upright into the staff that will soon reach into my belly where he will go deeper and deeper into my center asking, 'is that you...is that you?'

Finally in exquisite relief my body will answer 'Yes...yes love...that's me...that's your mother...there...there...' and I'll come and many times come again, and for a sweet moment...I'll forget. And when the ecstatic moment passes, I'll be left with my son above me, his juices coating my insides." I come hard as the fantasy ends and the stinging whip of my thoughts begin to snap at me.

I had to talk to someone. I figured my sister Jan would probably be the only one I could trust; the only place I might find concern and advice rather than condemnation.

I visited her the next day and made a lot of small talk because it was hard for me to start but finally I said, "Janice honey, I don't know how to tell you the trouble I'm in...its Tommy..."

"What is it babe, is he sick?"

"No sweetie, it's nothing like that...it's...I've been...sort of having sex with him."

"What...How...?"

"Oh Jan, I just don't have the strength to do the whole thing with you but you know how good-looking he is and how lonely and depressed I was...it happened...and now I'm so confused...I love him Jan, he's everything I've ever wanted...everything...he's the person we've talked about finding since we were girls. He loves me in a way that always makes me feel special...and he's so good for me Jan, and exciting...I almost come when he just touches me."

"Babe...Babe...don't cry. Let's talk about it...it sounds like you should be happy. I know it's complicated and I don't know anything about something like this but...what is there to cry about...you found someone to love...someone who loves you back.

"But he's my son Jan...and...I can't stop myself...I want him all the time...how can I want my own son to make love to me...want my son in me...in me...?"

"Look, I'd give anything to feel that way again...with anyone. You're both adults and you're in a situation that not everyone is going to understand – but they don't have to. It's for the two of you to work out. If it's what you both decide you want...hey, the whole world is looking for that kind of love...you found it at home."

The encouragement I got from Jan was unexpected but welcome. Somehow I felt better. When my son came home that night, for the first time, I was the initiator. I kissed him and told him that I loved him very much. It made him happy and he was surprised. He said, "Well I love you too...very much." His kisses were passionate and helped assuage my fear that I would again regret what was about to happen between us. He took my top off and my nipples were already elongated. I felt more relaxed and the warm feelings bathed me as my son stroked my heavy breasts. The tingling reached between my legs before my son's hands did, and it wet me. When he reached into my panties, his finger easily entered my opening and teased my pussy. I invited my son to bed.

When we reached my room, I could see the hardness of him straining in his pants. It was the hardness of my loving son that I wanted filling me. I undressed him for the first time and enjoyed touching each place I exposed. I stroked his smooth muscular chest and back. I grasped the cock that fueled my fantasies and reached behind to his strong ass. As we touched each other, he kissed my neck and said, "Mother...mother...mother..."

The words sent nagging doubts flitting as he reached down to put himself inside me. Doubts, like pins pricked into me as if puncturing my skin, but nothing could stop the relief I felt when the heart of me welcomed my son's stiff flesh into my wet center. Nothing could keep me from saying, "Yes Tommy...yes...yes...be inside your mother...where she needs you." He filled my pussy and the slow rhythmic insertions took me to realm of thoughtless abandon. All I could do was revel in the feel of him along the walls of my vagina, engorged in my pussy, fucking his...mother...fucking...his mother...fucking his mother.

I rested in my son's arms after all the times he made me come. As his loving hands gently soothed my flaming body, I asked him if he was ashamed of me. He said, "Mom, don't you know how much I love you? I'm proud that you're my mom...you're the one I want to spend all my nights with."

"How could you be proud? When I...do things that no mother..."

"That's when I'm the proudest of you...that's when I love you the most," he said.

I looked in his loving eyes and saw the truth of what he told me. I wanted to love him so much at that moment...I wanted to pleasure him as he had pleasured me. I went to the long cock lying on his leg and kissed it. It sprang to life, as I tasted both of our juices on it. When I first put the swelling knob into my mouth, I knew I wouldn't be satisfied until my son came in my mouth. I had never let a man come in my mouth. I was almost forty years old and this was the first moment I understood why a woman would want her man to fill her mouth with his cum. I now loved my son that way and I wanted to do it for him, and more than that, I wanted to do it for me.

I sucked and rubbed the long shaft that had been in my pussy not long before. Having it in my mouth excited me. My tongue traced the shape of the spongy helmet and the veins that I had seen swell when he had gotten hard for me. I grabbed the shaft with one hand and my pussy with the other, as my body wouldn't stay still. My son took my breast in his hand and all the sensations played me. I could feel his tension building as I sucked and masturbated him at the same time. I stopped long enough to kiss and lick up and down the shaft and tell him that I was proud that he was my son and that this was what I wanted.

I felt his fingers press into my breast as I returned him as deep into my mouth as I could. All he said was, "Mom...I'm...OH...OH..." I sucked and jerked him and the first forceful stream of cum hit the back of my throat. I controlled a small gag and swallowed as more jets followed. The sounds of my son's pleasure made me glad and I continued to milk the juice into my mouth. The last few licks across the tip of his exhausted cock made his body twitch.

I continued rubbing my pussy and put my tit into my son's mouth, feeding him. He held the big tit in two hands and he drew the nipple forcefully between his lips. He kept pulling on it and my body remembered how he used to draw milk from my swollen breasts. My pussy ached for release and I asked him to do it for me. He went between my legs and took my clit as he taken my nipple. He called me his "beautiful cunt" and it was the first time that word was beautiful to me.

I told him that my cunt was for him as I approached the most intense orgasm of the night. I cried out "Son...son...yes...like that baby...just like that for mother..." My body began to wrack in spasms. I arched my pussy high into the air as he continued sucking and I called to him, "Make me come...make me come..." He made me come and to my surprise within a moment he made me come again. "Oh love, you're so good for your mother..." I held him so tightly, he could hardly breathe and I told him, "I'm never going to let you go...never...I don't care...about anything anymore...my baby...my baby..."

I woke up happy the next morning, for the first time in a long time. I wouldn't let him go to work and neither did I. We stayed and played and didn't leave the house. I became determined to live the cliché – 'Today is the first day of the rest of our lives'. I told my son, "From today on, I'll never refuse you. All I'm going to do is love you. If you want me, I'm yours."

He wanted me. He wanted me with my legs spread and all of me open to him and that was how I wanted to be. He touched the warm lips of my pussy and before I knew it, he pushed his big cock into me and said, "This is where I want to be mom." I wouldn't let him stop all day.

We talked about moving away to live in a place where we could be a couple that holds hands walking down the street and kisses at the movies; he talked about going back to college and finishing his degree. It was a day that was better than any fantasy.

About a week later I was having a particularly bad night and I woke him up. I needed the comfort of him and his loving warmth. I told him I was feeling down and upset and he just held me until I felt that little 'click' in my head that usually takes me from feeling terrible to feeling better for no particular reason. I did feel better and I appreciated how kind and concerned he was. I was so vulnerable and filled with love for him. I loved that he had grown into a good person. I kissed him for it. Then I kissed him for me.

I opened my nightgown and took a bare breast to his mouth. My nipple responded to his attention as his hand stroked my flank. He slid under the panty-like bottom and caressed one globe, spreading my ass. My head started to spin off into fantasies. I wanted...everything.

He slept in briefs and they were now stretching at the crotch. I was beyond caring or thinking. I took his briefs down and saw the longest, widest, straightest, hardest cock I figured I would ever see. He was up on his elbows and I told him, "Lie back baby and let momma take care of you." I grabbed the shaft that my fingers couldn't quite get around and brought it to my mouth. I kissed it and felt it jump in my hand. I engulfed the crown and moved my hand along the length as I sucked on the fully expanded head. The taste of my son's pre-cum on my tongue excited me. My son's thick meat filled my mouth as I descended on the shaft. I couldn't believe how much was still exposed.

The thought that I was sucking my son's cock was still new: illicit and thrilling at the same time. In my lonely nights of masturbatory fantasies I had concocted some far out scenarios but never in my wildest imaginings was my mouth filled with my son's cock; yet I was trembling with excitement that it was there, and that my son wanted to love me that way.

The noises coming from both of us told me that there was no way I was going to stop before he came. I told him the other thoughts that were swirling in my head between my sucking bouts. "I love the taste of your cock Tommy...I love the soft skin and hard shaft...I love to watch your pleasure when you're in momma's mouth...I want to be good for you baby...I want to give you the best sucking you ever had..." I licked him from under his big balls to the tip of his leaking cock head. I almost swallowed the crown and used my tongue to massage the hard shaft. I asked him, "Is momma doing you good baby...is this what you want momma to do?" By his sounds, he seemed to like my talking as much as my sucking.

Mikelh
Mikelh
2,252 Followers
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