Mom, All I Want for Xmas is You Ch. 08

Only, he wouldn't want to get her drunk enough to be sick. He'd want to get her feeling good enough to hopefully relax her sexual inhibitions, her morality, and her modesty. Normally, it only took two glasses of champagne for his mother to feel a little tipsy. Perhaps, especially after her watching his masturbation show, her getting a little tipsy was all that he needed to do to make her horny enough to make a sexual move on his mother. After he interrupted her from finishing sexually pleasuring herself by opening his eyes, perhaps she's still horny. Now he wondered if she was deliberately flashing him her panties.

"Suddenly as if my life flashed before my eyes, I thought of past holidays and how merry I used to be," she said leaning forward in her seat to make eye contact with him.

With her leaning forward in that way, he had a simultaneous up-skirt flash of her white panties and a down blouse flash of her cleavage and bra.

'My mother is driving me wild by flashing me her panties, her cleavage, and her bra,' he thought. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd think my mother was flashing me on purpose. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that my mother sexually wanted me in the way that I incestuously want her.'

Careful not to catch him staring where he shouldn't be staring, he stared at all that she was unintentionally or deliberately showing him. As much as he loved seeing flashes of her shapely thighs and her bright, white, bikini panties, he loved seeing flashes of the tops of his mother's breasts, her long line of sexy cleavage, and her low-cut, white bra. No doubt, he'll be masturbating tonight over all that he was seeing and all that his mother was showing.

"I'm sorry for your sadness Mother," he said. "Yet, with tonight Christmas Eve, we can make for our own fun time."

She gave him a weak smile while staring down at her glass of champagne.

"These past two months with the snow and the cold, and with Thanksgiving, Christmas, and soon New Year's, used to be my favorite time of the year. Now, as if I'm being tortured by the memories of them, I dread celebrating them," she said falling sadly silent again. "With your father leaving me for that little whore, I can't help myself from getting sad."

Obviously, the reason for her sadness, she was thinking about her ex-husband, Robert, his father, again. He felt guilty for bringing Jessica home and introducing her to his father. Even though they've had been divorced for more than two-years, she couldn't go the entire year without thinking of him. Even though his father was now married to a woman young enough to be his daughter and lived with her on the other side of the country, his mother was still hurting.

Setting her off every Valentine's Day, birthday, anniversary, Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year's Eve, whenever she thought of his father, she became sad. Something that she obviously needed psychological therapy to get over, he wished he could take the place of his father. He wished he could hold her, comfort her, kiss her, and have sex with his mother in the way that she obviously missed having sex with her ex-husband. Only, he was her son and she was his mother. In the incestuous way that he wanted her, she didn't sexually want him.

"It's been years since you caught him cheating on you, Mom," he said with patient understanding. "He's gone and not returning. You need to get over him. You need to get on with your life. He's living his life married to a whore of a woman half his age and seemingly they're happy living in their surrogate father and daughter, sexual lunacy," he said.

She gave him a sad little smile.

"I know and you're right," she said. "I still love him. I still miss him."

He returned her sad, little smile with his sad, little smile.

"I'm sorry I ever brought Jessica in this house. With you having no way to compete with someone as young and as slutty, just as she dumped me for him, he stupidly dumped you for her. I get that, but you need to find someone else to love," he said as if he was her psychiatrist instead of her son.

'You need to love and have sex with me,' he wanted to say but didn't dare say something so outrageously inappropriate. Instead of making his mother feel better by soliciting for sex, he'd make her feel worse.

Yet, in the way that his mother hadn't found someone else to love, he hadn't found someone else to love either. He was just as sad, lonely, and sexually frustrated as his mother obviously was. With both his father and girlfriend out of the picture, how perfect would it be to begin a romance with his mother. Yet, even more wicked than his father leaving his mother for a woman half his age, him wanting to have a sexual relationship with his mother was forbidden.

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Just as his mother was a better person than her ex-husband, he was a better person than his ex-girlfriend. Good riddance. Yet, with him just as sexually attracted to his mother as was his mother still in love with her ex-husband, he still harbored some modicum of sexual feelings for his ex-girlfriend. Just as he couldn't forget having sex with his ex-girlfriend, she obviously couldn't forget being sexually intimate with her ex-husband. He could have been giving himself advice regarding his ex-girlfriend instead of giving his mother advice regarding her ex-husband.

Yet, even though he said she should find someone else to love, he didn't want his mother finding anyone else to love. He wanted her to love him in that sexually forbidden way. He wanted her to have sex with him and not with someone else. Even though he said she should find someone else to love, other than his mother, he needed to find someone else to love too.

If anyone needed to get over anyone, with him already over his ex-girlfriend, he needed to get over the inappropriately love that he harbored for his mother. Lusting over her for the past four years, since he turned 18-years-old, especially after his father left with his Jessica, was when he really wanted his mother. It wasn't normal for a son to love his mother in that sexual way. It wasn't normal to think that she loved him in the sexual way that he loved her. Just as it wasn't normal for his mother to watch him masturbating himself, it wasn't normal for him to deliberately flash his mother his erect prick while stroking and cumming in front of her.

'Yet, she stayed to watch me stroke myself. When she could have and should have left my room, she stayed to watch me cum,' he thought. 'Even more than that, I sexually aroused her enough by my masturbation show for her to feel her breast and finger her nipple through her clothes. I sexually aroused her enough for her to stick her hand beneath her short skirt and down her panties and touch herself. In the horny way that I was masturbating myself of my mother, she was masturbating herself over me too.'

Nonetheless his mother becoming sexually aroused enough to touch herself over watching him stroking his cock, he needed to stop this mother and son lunacy of hoping to have incestuous sex with her. He needed to stop sexually fantasizing over her while masturbating over her. Needing to get a life starting with a finding new girlfriend, he needed to stop imagining his mother naked and having sex with her naked body.

Just as he'd never be allowed to see her naked and touch and feel her naked body, she'd never have sex with him. She'd never make him her lover. He'd never see his mother in her panties and bra, topless, and/or naked. Unlike his mother who was nothing like her son, his mother wasn't the incestuous whore in the way that he was the incestuous pervert.

Jealous of the love his mother still had for his father, he wished his mother would sexually think of him in the way that she continued sexually thinking of her asshole of an ex-husband. Yet, with him controlled by the incestuous perversion that he felt for his mother, any guidance he gave her was not only twisted but also laced with the incestuous lust that he had for her in his sexual frustration. Because of the sexually inappropriate way he felt about her, it was impossible for him to disassociate himself from his immoral feelings and lustful desires to give her unbiased advice.

Then, continuing in his incestuous lunacy, he thought about something that may work for both. If only she viewed him as her lifeline from divorce until she started a new life with someone else, he'd love to fill the role as her sexual rebound just as he'd love for her to fill the role as his sexual rebound. He'd love to make her emotionally happy and sexually satisfied until she found someone else to love. If only his mother shared the incestuous lust he had for her, he could make her happy, if even for only for a little while until she found another lover and until he found someone to love and perhaps even to marry.

He'd give her enough orgasms with his fingers, his mouth, and his cock for her to forget her ex-husband. Hopefully, she'd give him enough orgasms with her hand, her mouth, and her pussy to stop him from masturbating himself. As convoluted as it sounded when he wasn't stroking his prick while thinking of his mother naked and having sex with her, he was thinking of her not as his mother but as his lover. If only he could have sex with her, he would have sex with her. He wished he could make his mother his lover. He wished he could make his mother his whore, his sexual slave, and his cum slut.

Only, a son soliciting his mother for sex, how would he even suggest that without her thinking that there was something wrong with him? How could he possibly persuade someone who was as morally modest and as somewhat religious as she was to have sex with him? Then, even if she agreed to be his incestuous lover, how would he dare go through with having sex with her without her thinking that he was perverted for wanting to have sex with his mother? Sadly, as much as he wanted her sexually, she didn't want him sexually. She'd never have intimate, sexual relations with him in the way that he wanted to have intimate, incestuous sex with her.

"I know and you're right. I need to find a man to love," she said giving him another soft, sad smile. "I can't. I just can't. The thoughts of pretending to love another man turns my stomach. Your father was the only man I was with sexually. I was a virgin when I married him," she said looking up at him as if she was about to cry.

Then, instead of crying, she smiled as if proud of her virginity. She smiled as if she was contently happy being alone instead of feeling terminally sad that she had no one in her life but her incestuously, perverted son. Only, with her having wasted buckets full of tears over his father, her smiles weren't fooling him. Knowing her better than that and with her unable to fool him, she was far from happy. He knew she was hurting inside. She was sad and was the saddest around the holidays.

'Wow, my mother was a virgin when she married my Dad. I didn't know that,' he thought. 'Nonetheless her only being with one man sexually, she needs to get laid. She needs to have an orgasm. She needs to hold my cock in her hand and take me in her mouth before taking me in her pussy. She needs me to finger her cunt and lick her pussy before making love to her and before fucking her. She needs me to give her multiple orgasms with my fingers, my mouth, and my cock.'

Enjoying the thought that the answer to his mother's problems was to have sex, he'd love to volunteer his sexual services to her. He'd love to sexually satisfy his mother. If giving his mother incestuous sex was what he could do to remove her sadness, he'd be happy to make that sacrifice. Only, nothing more than a sexual fantasy, he knew the last thing his mother would want was taking him on as her lover. Nonetheless, now that he considered that thought and pondered that thought, he was consumed by that thought.

'Mom, you need to get laid,' he imagined saying to her. 'You need to have an orgasm. Trust me, Mom. As if I'm your gynecologist, remove your clothes and spread your legs.' He imagined whipping out his cock in readiness to sexually service his mother. 'After you allow me to lick and finger you pussy, after you allow me to make love to you before fucking you, you need to stroke me while blowing me, Mom,' he thought.

He looked at his mother while imagining her staring up at him with her big, beautiful, blue eyes with his hard, hairy cock stretching her mouth. He looked at his mother while imagining her stroking him while blowing him. He looked at his mother with as much love as he looked at her with forbidden, sexual excitement.

'Seriously, Mom, you need to suck my prick,' he thought. 'As if my cum is the medicine that you need, you need to allow me to cum in your mouth. You need to swallow my cum. Allowing me to cum in your mouth will make you feel better. I know it will and you won't know it until you try,' he imagined saying while willing to say anything to have sex with is mother.

He imagined her looking at him with as much sexual excitement as he looked at her. He imagined her wanting to have sex with him as much as he wanted to have sex with her. He imagined his mother being desperately horny enough to allow him to have his wicked, sexual way with her beautiful, motherly body.

'Oh, James, you're right. I need to get laid. I need to have an orgasm. I need to have multiple orgasms,' he imagined his mother saying what he was thinking. 'If you don't mind and if it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you do me the honor of licking and fingering my pussy before making love to me and before fucking me?' He imagined his mother looking at him with as much incestuous lust as he was looking at her. 'Perhaps, you're right about me needing to blow you, too. Perhaps, my cure for my sadness is to suck you prick, have you cum in my mouth, and swallow your cum.'

He imagined giving her a sexy smile and a naughty look. He imagined his mother sexually wanting him as much as he sexually wanted her. He imagined his mother being as much of an incestuous whore as he was an incestuous pervert.

'I'd love nothing more than to eat your cunt mother,' he imagined saying. 'I'd love nothing more than to bang the top of your blonde, pretty head against the headboard while watching your naked breasts bounce up and down and sway side to side.' He imagined fucking her hard and fast after making love to you slow and sweet. 'I'd love nothing more for you to scream my name in orgasmic bliss. I'd love nothing more than for you to suck my cock and allow me to cum in your beautiful mouth before cumming all over your pretty face,' he imagined saying while tracing her lips with his finger. He imagined her taking his finger in her mouth to suck.

Yet, just as he'd never say any of those things to his mother, she'd never say any of those things to him nor even think of any of those sexually inappropriate things. Nonetheless what he was thinking, able to see it in her big, blue eyes, she was in emotional pain. Yet, selfishly and sexually thinking more of himself, he needed to think more of his mother's feelings. With him able to justify and explain away his sexual attraction for his mother, his excuse was that he was from a broken home. With his parents always fighting, his father drinking and disappearing for long periods of time, having grown close to his mother, he was always protective of her.

Convolutedly in thought, as if he possessed the magic cure, he justified that the best way for them to get what they both hopefully wanted, happiness and sexual satisfaction, was for them to be incestuously intimate with one another. Only, with the hard part convincing his mother that he was the one to end her sadness and was the key to her happiness, she'd never go for them being sexually intimate. Something never to be, she'd never give him incestuous sex. She'd never suck his cock, make love to him, and fuck him in the way he imagined she did in his sexual fantasies.

To be continued...

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