Ecstasy Remembered

Prelude

I'm sitting down to write this story two days after the incredible event. We were bad, really bad. But the event was beautiful. And I know why. It was beautiful because it was really a bad thing to do. It actually happened and now I am feeling the ambivalent implications of it. I haven't sorted it all out yet, but I feel a compulsion to put it down on paper.

It seems unbelievable to me even a couple of days later and so I want to be sure that I get it down for the record, so I won't confuse it with fantasy in the coming decades. Certainly, although there were earlier clues, I would never have expected my wife Gina to ... well that's the story to be told. She will want to read it too, because she is at the center of the story, a story of a woman's ecstasy.

And telling it is almost a compulsion. I probably will never experience such an event again. It would be up to Gina, actually, and from what I've been able to figure out in the short time involved, she is regarding it as a one-time incident. "It could never be that way again," she said, "so why spoil the memory?" Besides, she might have added, it was bad, in the sense of wrong. And yet ... but that's the ambivalence of it.

I can't just blurt out what happened, nor can I fully capture the event in words, as much as I'd like to. Some background is needed about me and about the other "characters" in this story.

Part One

The recent event would never have happened except for the Internet and, in particular, the story sites. A year ago, I knew nothing about them. Then, with some time on my hands, I began searching here and there on the Web -- you know how it is. Then I hit a story site for the first time. I remember looking over a list and downloading a half dozen stories. I sat at my computer and had a revelation about my inner self.

Only one story turned me on. It had a very special theme. No violence. No pain. Just sexual love ... forbidden sexual love.

The story was about a mother who finds herself attracted to her nineteen-year old son. An old story, sure. As the well-written, slow-moving tale unfolded, at first only mildly erotic events occurred. Mother takes note that her son is masturbating a lot. The son sneaks peaks at his mother's breasts and ass without her awareness of it. Mom sees his erection one morning. She finds herself excited. She begins dressing in a more provocative way around the house. And so forth. The incidents are filled with anticipations of what might or could happen, but only at the very end of the story, in which literally years go by, do the protagonists have sex. By that time, the son had gone off somewhere for a year. Then, finally, when he returns on a visit, their interaction explodes into full-fledged lust, culminating in mother and son making love.

As I say, that was a year ago. That was my first encounter with what turned out to be the only sort of erotic story that turned me on. Over the past year, I've downloaded dozens of similar stories, always favoring the mother and son type.

Perhaps younger people enjoy these stories with little guilt today. But at my age, that isn't true. I had a sexual thrill in reading these stories as I sought them out on the Internet. Yet, I began to analyze myself in doing so because I had the feeling that I was not supposed to be doing this sort of thing. It was not only that the activity was categorized as bad, but that even wanting to read about it was defined as bad. And I had internalized those definitions.

Still, apart from good and bad, why was I turned on by this sort of story theme and not by some others?

My self-analysis led me to focus on some events that happened in our household some years ago, when our son Jimmy still lived with us.

My wife Gina, who is about my age, is a tall dark-haired woman with long legs, large breasts and with a very outgoing and effervescent personality. And when sexually aroused, she is wild!

Anyway, to get to the point, Gina and I used to have regular lovemaking sessions on Saturday afternoons. We got into a certain habitual pattern in which first I would take my bath, and then it was her turn.

For whatever original reason I don't know, but Jimmy would be called into the bathroom to wash his Mom's back, at least that's how it began. But after a while, I used to hear Gina asking him to wash her breasts, even though she used to initiate the situation by calling out to him, "Jimmy, want to wash Mom's back, dear?"

Once, when I came up close to the bathroom door and peeked in, I saw that he had lathered soap on his hands and had then begun a slow massage of her breasts.

I heard her moan a little as she said, "Hmm, you make Mom feel so good. Do you like to wash Mom's bosom?"

I heard an affirmative grunt and then backed away to wait in bed for her. When she joined me, I found her more than ready for lovemaking, indeed incredibly eager.

So, the next time she was about to take her bath, I whispered to her, "Hey, babe, going to have your son get you ready for fucking?"

I used the latter word as a turn-on for both of us, since we definitely avoided its use on all other occasions.

So just asking the question in that way turned me on.

Gina paused and then came up close to me and whispered a question in reply that I was never to forget.

"Yes, but to tell the truth, I wonder about it. I like it too much, it's an incredible turn-on. Is it OK, do you think? I won't suck or fuck him."

I remembered that my excitement increased as I replied something to the effect, "Sure, honey, enjoy."

So the bath eroticism continued until some months later, as I recall. Then one day Gina mentioned that our son was masturbating several times a day.

"How do you know," I remember asking.

"I know," was all she said.

Anyway, Jimmy must have been disappointed with a decision that Gina made when his Mom told him that she didn't need him to "wash her back" anymore.

So after that the Saturday afternoon eroticism was strictly in our bedroom between Gina and me.

As I say, that was some years ago.

What I am saying is that I think over the past year the discovery of the excitement I felt in reading mother-son sex stories goes back to those events. I had been turned-on by the bath eroticism, as I am calling it.

It was not merely that it had occurred, that Jimmy had massaged his mother's hefty breasts and that she had encouraged it, expressing enjoyment. It also was that she had admitted to me that it was a turn-on, recognizing herself some sexual attraction to her son.

Anyway, to get the present time: I've been absorbed in all these erotic mother-son stories this past year. I'm indicating that so that you will understand. Also, I've given you my analysis and, in the course of it, revealed something about my lovely wife Gina.

Part Two

All this has been a prelude to the wild events that occurred just this past weekend. Jimmy came to stay with us for the weekend. He was in town to attend a conference, it turned out, and he stayed in his old room. We had the space, no problem.

It was a Saturday.

After lunch, we spent a few hours talking. Actually, we had had a few drinks too. It wasn't that unusual for us -- Gina and me -- to imbibe on a Saturday afternoon as a prelude to our sex.

I guess Jimmy ordinarily did not drink that much, but he did join us and seemed a little inebriated after a while. I have to admit that I might have had one too many as well. Gina seemed a bit tipsy too, come to think of it. Let's face it, we were all a bit tipsy, otherwise none of this would have happened.

Upon seeing that it was four o'clock, I spoke out cheerfully, "Time for baths! Saturday, you know!"

Gina flushed and Jimmy looked startled for a minute, then laughed, remembering the ritual.

"Hey, Mom and Dad, you still make it every Saturday afternoon, huh?"

"Hmmm, we sure do!" Gina said, taking a gulp of her drink and then looked over at me. "Go ahead, lover, go take your bath -- shower! -- and hurry up, I need some action!"

As I was about to leave the room, I heard Jimmy laughingly turn to Gina, "Mom, remember you used to call me to come in and wash your ... back? That was turn-on!"

"What?" she replied, her face turning red. "Wait a minute, that was a turn-on for you?"

"Sure, Mom, who else? Wait a minute ... are you saying ...?"

I left the room then, to take my bath. I only learned later how the rest of the conversation went.

"Jimmy," Gina said, probably slurring her words, given all her drinking, "what do you think? Those hands on me ... you truly got me ready for lovemaking."

Gina told me that at that point, Jimmy began to ogle her breasts. She had felt herself respond, feeling warm and sexy. She couldn't help looking at her son in an interested way, eyeing the tall handsome young man that he was, who had once made he feel so incredibly ready for hot sex.

She told me later that Jimmy had leaned toward her as they sat near each other on the couch. What he whispered to his mother created the real start of the wild thing, the bad thing, the beautiful thing that happened a little later.

"Mom, let me do it again today, OK? It'll be fun!"

Gina told me she had been shocked but thrilled. Her body had felt on fire. She had closed her eyes, trying to get some bearing on the situation, ready to laugh it off with a joke and a "no."

But somewhere between the intention and the saying, the word became "yes."

A little while later, I was in the bedroom waiting for Gina, when I heard Jimmy go to the second bathroom. I heard the shower turn on. I figured, and I was correct, that Gina would wait for him to finish using the water before she started her bath.

After a while, I heard Gina come upstairs just as the shower turned off. She undressed and went to the bathroom.

I heard the water start. After no more than five minutes, Jimmy came out of the other bathroom, and I saw that he wore only his briefs.

I heard Gina call out. "Jimmy, come wash Mom's back, baby."

I almost fell out of the bed. Don't forget that I did not find out about their earlier conversation until later.

I waited, straining to hear after Jimmy joined her in the bathroom.

"Hmm, Jimmy, it's been so long sweetheart."

"Mom!"

"Oh, baby, it's even better than I remember."

"God, you're beautiful Mom."

"Jimmy-baby, you make me feel so wonderful."

"I don't know how many times I've dreamt of this, of doing this again."

"Hmm, me too, honey."

"Wow! You too, Mom! I can't believe it!"

I heard Gina laugh nervously.

There were some whispers I couldn't hear then. By this time, I was excited. My cock was hard as a rock. I went to the bathroom door and listened closely.

"... maybe later darling, not now."

"But mom...."

For a moment I thought she had rejected some sort of lewd proposal from him, but then I realized that she had something else in mind.

I heard her whisper to him, "I want to dress for you ... so that you can undress me!"

"Oh Mom, Mom...."

I felt my ears turning into red-hot appendages as my face flushed. My body was tingling with the electricity of taboo eroticism! Gina wanted her son!

Jimmy had left the bathroom and gone back to his room when Gina had joined me in the bedroom.

Still tipsy, she took a long swallow of a very strong refill that I had prepared for her. She confessed to me how she felt. "Lover, I know this is crazy. Try to understand, please. I want him and he wants me."

"Oh, Gina, you can't, he's our son for goodness sake!"

"Sweetheart, it will be all of us together, not just him. I want both of you -- two lovers!"

"Oh, God! Gina, do you know what you're saying?"

"Come on, Larry, I know about the Internet stuff you like."

I was completely shocked! She knew!

"Gina, how...?"

"Never mind how I know. I know. So you're as turned on by the mother-son thing as I am. He's a grown person. It's not abuse. He wants me. I want him. You love the idea of it too. And we're being open about it."

I swallowed the last of my powerful drink, my head spinning, my face flushed and -- I admit it -- my prick was erect!

I said nothing.

She gave me instructions.

"I want us all to get dressed. Then, I want the two of you to undress me and make love to me. I know I'm a little drunk. But maybe it's giving me the courage to do what I've only dreamt. You and me and, yes, with our boy. Both of you making love to me at the same time!"

I stood up, filled with lust, and kissed her, my tongue shooting into her mouth. We kissed passionately for a few moments, then she pushed me away.

"Save it, lover, give me a few minutes. And get dressed!"

I dressed, throwing on a pair of slacks and a shirt. Then I lay back on the bed and waited as she went out of sight to prepare.

Then she returned. She was beautiful, more beautiful than ever I could recall.

Jimmy stood at the entrance to our bedroom. He was dressed as I was with slacks and shirt.

"Ready?" he asked us.

She turned to him and then looked at me "Ready," she said.

She sat back on the bed and we each took a position, one of us holding her legs, the other behind her.

Slowly, we undressed her and stripped down to our briefs. Her breasts were on display for us. How large and luscious they were! She wanted Jimmy's cock in her mouth, hungered for it. And while she sucked her boy, I probed her hot wet cunt with my prick. We took various positions as Jimmy maintained a steady fucking of Gina's hot mother mouth.

At one point, she stared directly into my face as she sucked her boy's now huge prick.

I couldn't believe the excitement I felt. Even the year of reading of incestuous stories of mother-son sexual love had not prepared me for the thrill of it. And Gina was wild with excitement. I could see the goose bumps on her body.

"This is what you always wanted, isn't it, to make hot love to your boy?"

My words became part of the excitement.

She nodded as she sucked her boy's prick lovingly. I looked at Jimmy as he looked at her with lust-enflamed eyes.

"Jimmy, is this what you used to think about when you jerked-off in your room? Massaging your mom's breasts? Filling her mouth with your hard boy-cock?"

Jimmy's excited reply amplified our excitement as he addressed it to Gina.

"Hmm, yes, yes, and since then I've dreamt it every day of my life, Mom: how nice it would be to ... fuck you ... in the mouth ... and more!"

Gina was leaning over his body now, sucking up and down on her boy's prick as I fucked her, while he kissed her body.

Then she paused.

"I want it both ways," she whispered, hot with lust.

"Wait," she ordered. She got up and raced to the bathroom.

When she returned, she rubbed our cocks with a lubricant.

"Now, lovers, now! Fuck me! Both of you!"

I watched for a moment as she climbed on Jimmy. I saw her puckered lovely asshole, awaiting me. She turned to look back at me. "Now, Larry, please. Hurry darling!"

I approached, and positioned myself over her.

She reached back to encourage me as I entered her, my hard cock slowly penetrating her waiting lubricated asshole.

"Ooh," she groaned, "ooh, baby, yes, all the way!"

I moved out a little, then back in until the lubrication and her own rocking back on my prick did the rest. I felt my prick slide easily into her incredibly hot channel.

"Oh, sweetheart," I moaned, "fantastic! So hot, so tight!"

"Yes, Larry-lover, fuck me."

Then she looked down into the lust-filled face of her boy, Jimmy.

"Oh, yes, Jimmy, I love it."

She paused a moment and rocked back on me, then moaned in sexual delirium as Jimmy and I fucked her in unison.

"Oh, lovers, yes, my two lovers."

There was a rhythm of our movements, at first slow and deliberate, then faster.

"Oh, lovers, yes! Don't stop! I want this to last forever."

But, of course, it could not last very long. For a few moments longer, our wild family fuck continued, then I felt my release. I could not hold back.

A moment later she cried out and had a series of orgasmic spasms. I knew that at the same time her boy's love-sperm was shooting into her.

We fell back, at first on each other and then beside each other, hot, sweating, satisfied.

"Incredible," Gina said, "just incredible."

"And beautiful,' she whispered, running her fingers over Jimmy's face. Then she closed her eyes and in a little while I saw that she was asleep.

Jimmy looked away from me and then arose and went to his room. I lay there, trying to get a handle of what had happened.

After about an hour in which I lay there having such thoughts, Jimmy poked his head in bedroom door.

"It's better that I leave now, Dad. I'll be in touch."

I wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words, so I just nodded. Gina would resolve the unspoken question, I thought then, we'll let her feelings decide what happens next.

Epilogue 1

That was Saturday, two days ago.

It had been unreal. It had been a wild improbable event.

A beautiful woman had gone all out in sexual frenzy leading to double penetration by her son and husband. It's one thing to have it as some fantasy or to read it in some story. It is quite another thing to experience it.

Later, as I wrote earlier, Gina said it would not happen again. But she expressed no regrets. Not that she was uncaring of the relationships antecedent to the sexual encounter. Far from it. Those very relationships had been the very source of her ecstasy. "The bad act" turned out to be beautiful, and it was so beautiful because it was so bad. At least, that is how I interpret it.

Epilogue 2

After he completed the story, he saved it in his secret folder on our PC. But he forgot to erase the documents list before he went off to bed.

The next day was my day off from work and after breakfast, I decide to finish writing a poem I'd been working on at the PC a few days ago. I completely forgot the filename and rather than use "find," I just checked the recent documents list.

I found it, but then I noticed this other document, "ecstacy.doc."

Well, I guess you understand now: I'm Gina and what I found was the above story by my husband, Larry.

After reading it, I have to admit, I went wild all over again, staining the surface of the computer chair!

More than that, I ended up going to his secret file of downloaded stories. The whole day was shot! All I did was read stories then rush to the bed and spread out, naked, my mind filled with incredible thoughts about being a Mom who makes love with her own son.

I'll never let it actually happen again, he's right about that. But I love the memory of it.

And I love the stories that are about a beautiful young son who makes wonderful love to his mom. I'm sending off this whole story, along this "Epilogue 2" with a message for you writers out there: Hey, some of us women want it, too, so please, be inventive! Make it a seduction. Make the lovely boy seduce his needy mom! Make lovely Mom seduce her young stud! Give us more stories, storytelling crowd! I'm hungry for boy-loving ... in my memories, in my dreams!