Prescript:The following is a work of fiction. It contains graphic amounts of mother/son incestuous sex. If this is not your cup of tea, do not read further.

I speak of some ‘studies’ early in this piece. As far as I’m aware, no such studies exist, and the figures are wholly fictional. I have no idea if any of the conclusions stated have any bearing on reality. I suspect they don’t.

They’re merely a literary trope to allow the main character to justify his actions.

All characters are a minimum of eighteen years old.

Keeping the above in mind, please, enjoy the story. If you were kind enough to vote and/or leave a constructive comment, positive or negative, I would be appreciative.

Hi all. My name is Xavier Johns. I have a PhD in Psychology. I want to tell you about my studies into the sexual relationships between divorced and/or separated under-45-year-old mothers and their adult biological sons.

To set the scene, my mother had me, her only child and son, just nine months after her eighteenth birthday. My mother had given her virginity to the captain of her school’s first fifteen rugby team on the evening of her birthday.

My father had promised to wear a condom during their lovemaking, but he had ‘sneaked’ on her. Reaching between them as they made love, he slipped the condom off so he could enjoy bareback fucking my mother.

I was the result.

My father’s family has ‘old school’ money and connections. As a result, my father’s parents could have the paternity test results quashed, and their connections prevented mum from successfully appealing this decision.

My mother is beautiful, but she is a ‘bogan’ (noun: an uncouth or unsophisticated person regarded as being of low social status). So together, my mum and I are ‘bogans from Logan’. She didn’t fit with the social image my father’s family wished to maintain.

If you will indulge me, let me describe my mother to you. To my eyes, mum looks a lot like a ripely matured Bella Hadid. Ms Hadid is only twenty-five. My mother is forty as I write.

Mum shares the name Bella with her more famous doppelganger; only my mother’s surname is Johns, not Hadid.

Mum is rightly proud of her looks. The figures from her modelling portfolio state that mum measures as follows: Height: 5 feet 9 (175 cm). Weight: 121 lbs (55 kg). Measurements: 38-24-34. Her breast size is 38C.

My mother’s eyes are blue, her cheekbones high and pronounced, and her lips full and ‘bee stung’. Mum’s natural hair colour is blonde, but she typically dyes it dark brown or black with ‘blood red’ highlights.

Despite the handicap of a young child, Mum had a reasonably successful modelling career, and she featured in many local paper and magazine ads. Her inability to travel limited her opportunities, however. Then, in her mid-thirties, she developed rheumatoid arthritis. This affliction ended her career.

Because of what my father did, mum could never trust men again. As I reached an age old enough to understand, I realised my mother was sad and very lonely. When mum announced her pregnancy to her Roman Catholic father, he denounced her and ordered her from his home. She has no contact with the family she ‘disgraced’.

Mum finds it difficult to trust any man except me.

My mother was so young when she had me that we grew up more like friends than mum and son. Mum, despite her experiences, has an innocent, almost childlike attitude to life.

Under her friendly, encouraging guidance, I became quite a precocious child. I talked early and walked early. I devoured my studies like a hungry shark in a school of fish.

As I aged, I learned to love my mother more and more. Every boy’s favourite girl is his mum, and I was no exception. I loved my mother deeply, but when I turned eighteen, I developed some very unhealthy obsessions about her.

I wanted to make her mine. I wanted mum to be my lover and life partner. Mum, at thirty-six, was way more beautiful and had a way hotter body than any of the girls my age. My masturbatory fantasies centred on forcefully taking my mother as I bent her over the kitchen bench.

In these dreams, mum holds a potato in one hand and the peeler in the other. She has on a halter top and my favourite red leather miniskirt. She is wearing only skimpy underwear. It’s a warm summer’s day, and tiny droplets of sweat have formed on her upper lip and between her firm breasts.

Coming up behind her quietly, I place my left hand in the middle of her back and push her high, firm breasts down against the bench top. Then, running my right hand roughly up between my mother’s toned thighs, I force her to spread her legs. Then I move her thong aside and take possession of her pussy.

In my fantasy, I’m sophisticated and cultured. Although I’m only eighteen, I have control of my libido and know how to excite a woman sexually. I’m confident I can control my need to cum, and I’m sure I can fuck my mother through numerous orgasms before filling her deliciously tight cunt with semen.

Pulling the hem of her skirt above her shapely ass, I smack her bottom to show her who is boss before jamming my thickly erect 7-inch cock into her pussy.

My dream mum groans deeply as I penetrate her, then reaches a hand back to stroke my head as I’m pounding into her.

“OMG, my darling Xavier,” she moans. “I never knew you loved your mummy so much. Own me, my darling boy. Make mummy cum on your big cock and make her beg for more.”

Acceding to her wishes, I brutally fuck my mum through numerous back-to-back orgasms as she bucks and writhes in ecstasy.

Finally, my mother has to beg, “Fill me with your baby-making seed, my sweetheart. Mummy can’t take anymore.”

Only then do I release the supreme control I have over my need to cum, and blast gallon after gallon into my mother’s willing cunt.

After I’ve finished, mum kneels before me and sucks me clean. Her blowing me makes me hard again, and I shoot an almost equal amount of semen into mum’s voraciously sucking mouth.

Now that I have taken two of her three holes, my mother insists I take her to bed so I can ‘complete the trilogy’ of pussy, mouth and ass, and we spend the night making love.

The crowning piece of this fantasy is the next morning when mum insists I move into her bedroom and become her owner and lover. I couldn’t tell you how often I’ve masturbated to this fantasy.

Of course, mothers don’t do that type of thing with their sons, so I didn’t pursue my dream.

I graduated high school a year ahead of schedule. I was able to compress the first four years of my studies into three and the two years scheduled for my Master’s degree down to one. I earned my PhD a year later at just twenty-two years of age.

Because of my unhealthy obsession with my mother, my PhD thesis was on incest. I read everything there is to read on the subject. I interviewed many victims and as many of their abusers as would allow me to interview them.

I came to a few conclusions. Firstly: If the incest was forced, the victim suffered similar mental health anguish to other rape victims.

Secondly: Even if the incest was forced, but the victim came to enjoy the sexual conquest and orgasmed with the perpetrator, they felt guilty but didn’t feel the anguish of rape.

Thirdly: If the incest was consensual and the instigator and recipient were of legal age, there was no mental health damage.

Lastly: I learned that father/daughter incest was the most commonly reported incest, but sibling incest was the most common incest perpetrated. Even more surprising was that mother/son incest occurred way more often than the statistics indicated. In fact, the percentages say that mother/son incest happens almost as often as father/daughter.

I believe mother/son incest is typically consensual, and both parties enjoy the act; therefore, it is rarely reported. Plus, because mother/son incest is seldom reported, no social stigma is attached.

Father/son incest is rare, as is Mother/daughter. My studies showed most Mother/daughter incest occurred at the father’s insistence. They also showed the mental health damage from this followed the trends of the more common types of incest. If the sex was consensual and the participants were of legal age, there were little to no mental health issues.

Growing up on welfare, money was always an issue. After enduring nearly six years of study and receiving only the lowly stipend the Australian government gives students, I desired a better lifestyle. But I also wanted to pursue my investigations into incest.

No self-respecting university would sponsor a study into what I wanted to do: Test if consensual, age-appropriate mother/son incest could be encouraged and whether the percentages of non-report and little emotional damage held true when it was. I was, therefore, at a loss as to how to proceed.

One rainy afternoon I returned home to find my mother sleeping in her room. She was naked except for a tiny robe. The bedroom door stood open, so I peeked through the door, masturbating over her beautiful face and gorgeous long-legged body. The robe was so short I could almost see my mother’s trimmed pussy. Her firm breasts were plainly in view, with only her nipples covered.

As I masturbated, it occurred to me I could combine my investigations into a rich money stream. I realised many, many men would pay to watch this spectacle. There was no way I would ‘whore’ my mother out, but I opened my laptop and wrote the following:

Long couch with comfortable pillows. Large screen television connected to a porn streaming service. Lube and tissues discreetly placed around the couch and on the low table in front. Condoms in a glass jar on the table.

TV screen showing thumbnails of many types of porn—something for every legal predilection. Remote and mouse on a mouse pad in front of the TV.

Cameras set up to record all activity. From above, under the TV, on top of the TV, from the left and right, and table.

Participants: sub-40-year-old mothers with their 18+-year-old sons.

Qualifications: Both have answered an ad to participate in this experiment. Mother has indicated an interest in porn in general and has specified what types of porn she enjoys. All disclaimers are signed saying they’re here voluntarily and they’re aware they’re being recorded and consent to the recordings being sold on or to pay-per-view porn sites.

Both have signed they understand the object of the experiment is to test if the mother, upon her sexual arousal, will instigate incestuous sex with her son.

Both have signed, agreeing to the amount they’re being paid to participate in the experiment.

Scene: Mother at one end of the couch, son on the other. Mother has control of the remote and mouse. Son must not move from his spot unless mother explicitly requests that he does. Son may not instigate any action but must obey all of mother’s requests.

Either party can end proceedings at any time by walking out. No payment is due if either participant walks out before a minimum of 15 minutes has elapsed.

If no sex occurs, the one-off payment of $15,000 is all that is owed. If sex happens, the participants may view the recordings and sign a further form allowing the recordings to be sold to the highest bidder. The participants will receive an additional 15% of this price.

Participants may request their faces be pixelated, but the percentage drops to 5%.

I thought the above would be a massive seller on PPV (pay-per-view) porn sites and would become a gigantic money earner for me. The problem was how to raise the money to set up the recording studio.

I didn’t want to take my ideas to an existing studio because I feared they would steal my concept and cut me out of the loop.

I struggled with this for around a month before realising I knew someone who had money and would probably give me quite a lot of it to go away—dear old Dad, of course. My father was recently seconded to a government-appointed committee investigating spousal abuse within the Australian army.

Imagine the scandal of an illegitimate son appearing in the media denouncing his abandonment of my mother and me. How bad would it look if I revealed that he had never paid even one dollar of child support?

I knew he would use his money and connections to disparage and ridicule my claims. Still, I was sure he would pay if I discreetly approached his lawyer and demanded a quarter of a million dollars to disappear quietly.

Dad balked at $250,000, but after I signed a non-disclosure form, he agreed to consider it. Another signed form agreeing this was the first and only payment he would make helped. A final form stating that I did not believe he was my father and would never again try to prove I was finally convinced my dad to cough up $150,000.

With this money, I set up my studio in a rented unit on Queensland’s Gold Coast. Purchasing several high-quality digital cameras, I placed them as stated above. Once the studio was complete, I needed a test couple to see how easy it would be to switch from camera to camera.

I couldn’t immediately find anyone to participate, so I asked mum if she would sit on and then move about the couch. I asked her to sit on every part, including the edges, the armrests and the back.

Trying to flick from camera to camera didn’t work, as I kept missing the best parts. By the time I changed to the ‘upskirt’ cam, mum had already moved positions, denying the cam a glimpse of her knicker-covered snatch.

I realised that I needed to leave all cameras on constant record, then edit the footage into a movie afterwards.

Buying second-hand equipment to hold all of this footage used the last of dad’s money. I had to take out a personal loan to purchase the editing unit and software. Because of my lowly financial status, I had to get my loan from a less than reputable source

Now, I had a loan to pay and no significant income. Times were getting desperate, and I definitely didn’t want to face the consequences of missing a payment.

Mum hadn’t asked a single question about the purpose of my unit and why I needed all the cameras. Mum doesn’t have much of a formal education, but she isn’t stupid, so I’m sure she guessed I was setting up a porn studio.

I ran ads everywhere I could think of to attract the participants described above but got no response.

I tried recording some masturbation videos, but although they were popular on the free sites, no one would pay even 99 cents to watch them.

The first month passed, and I couldn’t make my first repayment. I’d paid three months in advance, so the rental on my unit was covered.

After another fruitless day at my studio, I came home to find a ‘collector’ sitting at our kitchen table. He was drinking tea and chatting with my mother. Trying to be brave, I sat opposite him and said hello.

“Mrs Johns,” the collector said. “Do you mind stepping out of the kitchen as I talk with your son?”

“Certainly,” mum replied, sending me a worried look.

Once mum left, I started babbling, “I’m sorry I’m late. If I can have a small extension, I’m sure I’ll have some actors soon and have the money to make my payments.”

The collector sipped his tea silently. Lifting his head, he stared at me remorselessly.

Finally, he replied, “Sonny, you’re only young and new to this, so I’ll cut you this one break. By this day next month, you will pay both instalments plus an extra 50% for screwing us around.”

“I might need longer than that,” I whispered.

The collector took another sip of tea before saying, “No, you don’t. Let me explain what will happen if you don’t pay. First, I will return here and take your mother. Then she will appear in a movie I’m sure will make a lot of money. Only it won’t help you because you will still owe us.

If another seven days pass without payment, she will appear in another movie, then another, and so on.

Am I clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“One month, then.”

When the collector left, mum rushed in.

“OMG, Xavier! What have you done?”

“Loaned some money from bad people, mum.”

“Why did you do it?”

I didn’t explain what type of porn I hoped to make. Instead, I told mum I aimed to make classy porn movies with good dialogue and convincing acting.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll have to sell everything and hope I get enough money to settle this debt.”

Mum bit her bottom lip, “Will you take me to the studio tonight? I’d like to see how I look on film. You never showed me any pics or footage from the first time.”

Exasperated, I snapped, “Now’s hardly the time, mother.”

OMG, it was like I’d slapped her. Mum’s face crumpled, and tears welled in her eyes. I’d never snapped at my mother before. I felt so guilty.

Getting up, I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cheek, “I’m sorry, mum. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m just scared, okay?”

With trembling bottom lip, Mum replied, “That’s okay, bubby boy. But don’t yell at your mother, please. You’re all I have in the world, and mummy can’t stand it when you’re angry with her.”

“I’ll try never to do it again, mum. I promise. Now come on, get dressed in something pretty. Let’s go take some video.”

Smiling radiantly, mum asked, “Are you sure, honey? I don’t want to be a bother.”

Trying to be happy for her, I replied, “It’s no problem, mum. Go on. Make yourself all glamorous, and we’ll go have some fun.”

Mum received many outfits as gifts at the end of her modelling assignments. So she has an extensive, if dated, wardrobe. In addition, she buys cheap accessories to change up her look, so she always looks sexy and fashionable to me.

Around thirty minutes later, mum reappeared in the kitchen wearing her leather mini with a white, barebacked halter top. She wore a pair of black strappy, 7-inch high stiletto heels on her feet.

These heels force mum’s tight buttocks back and out and make her toned calves pop. With her dark hair, blue eyes, pure alabaster skin, and firm high breasts, my mother looked like she had just walked off a photo shoot and into my kitchen.

Despite my fears, my cock jumped. I ruthlessly grabbed that arousal by the neck and strangled it down.

Jumping in my twenty-year-old Corolla, we drove over to the studio. Opening up and turning all the recording lights on, I went behind the control panel to turn the cameras on.

Setting up, I didn’t notice what mum was doing. Mum sat on the couch directly in front of the TV. She picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Then, noticing all the thumbnails, she selected one with the mouse and opened it.

The clip she chose was a German-made video featuring a ‘mother’ that had to be at least fifty and her ‘son’ who looked barely legal aged.

I’ve carefully screened and investigated every movie placed on the thumbnail wall. The last thing I want is a charge for showing or distributing child pornography. As best as I could, I knew that every movie was consensually made and was legal to show to consenting adults in Australia.

The ‘mother’ was overweight with a fat ass and huge tits. The ‘son’s’ cock had to be at least 9-inches long.

In the movie, the ‘mother’ was on her back. Her ‘son’ had pushed his ‘mother’s’ legs back beside her ears and was pounding his colossal cock into his ‘mother’s’ ass as hard as he could.

Because she hadn’t turned the speakers on, I didn’t notice mum was watching a video. Plus, none of the cameras faced the screen, so I was completely oblivious.

Mum asked, “Have you ever tried anal sex, Xavier? I haven’t.”

I was shocked to my core. What kind of question was that to ask your son?

Stumbling over an appropriate response, I finally asked, “What brought that on, mum?”

“One of the videos you have on the TV screen. There’s a guy who is supposed to be the woman’s son fucking her in the ass. I’ve never tried that, have you?”

Everybody says I look a lot like my mum, except I have my father’s dark brown hair and olive complexion. Mum’s hair looks so natural that everybody thinks my dark hair comes from her. I’m tall, well over six feet (183 cm). In high school, I swam competitively with some success.

I swim at least 3 miles (5 km) daily, still.

I’ve had numerous girlfriends, but I never felt a connection beyond wanting some casual sex with them. Women consider me pretty rather than handsome. I tried guys a couple of times at university but found receiving anal sex wasn’t a pleasurable experience. It wasn’t unpleasant; it just didn’t do anything for me.

I don’t mind fucking a guy in his ass, but I find sex with women much more intense and enjoyable.

I had no idea how to answer, so I ignored the question.

Flicking through the cameras, I found the one from underneath the TV. OMFG, my mother wasn’t wearing underwear! Her shaved slit was clearly visible. And, dear lawd, was she wet? It certainly looked like it on the screen.

Throwing that image from my mind before my thick cock jumped out of my trousers, I switched to the overhead cam. This view was also quite delectable. Mum’s top only covered her upper body from just above her nipples to barely below her mounds. The sunburst belly button ring she wore emphasised her toned, smooth tummy.

Looking from above, I could see down my mother’s cleavage to her belly button ring.

Gulping again, I switched to one of the side cameras. Unfortunately, this didn’t help, either. Mum’s top was so skimpy that from the side, I could see from her ribcage to just before her nipple.

My dick was out of control, and I had the most enormous erection ever. I kept telling myself how inappropriate it was to have an erection over my mother, but my cock just wouldn’t listen. Instead, it throbbed, and my balls ached with desire.

“This one’s better,” mum said into the silence.

“What’s better, mum?” I managed to reply as I switched to the camera on the top of the TV.

This camera was positioned to capture facial shots. However, it was on a gimbal that I could adjust remotely. This was so I could tip the camera down to record blowjobs. I can tip it up if the actors stand on the couch.

My mother’s beautiful face filled my computer screen. I watched my mother for a time, and was amazed again at how lucky I was to have such a stunningly gorgeous parent.

I slowly became aware that mum kept biting her bottom lip or licking her top lip. My studies indicated this meant she was experiencing sexual arousal.

Admonishing myself for not positioning a camera to view the screen so I could see what the ‘actors’ were watching, I asked again, “What’s better, mum?”

“This movie.”

“Which one is it?”

“Can’t you see from there?”

My control room is in, what had been, a walk-in storage area. It’s probably only six-foot by six-foot big. I need to be hidden from the participants so they can relax and hopefully forget I’m recording them.

I was about to say, “No,” when I remembered the images on the TV came from the main computer in my control room.

Flicking one of my screens onto the computer feed, I saw mum was watching a Swedish movie named Mammor älskar sina söner (Mums love their sons).

The scene mum was watching featured four tall, stunningly beautiful, late-30s to early-40s, blonde-haired women. According to the script, these women were all being fucked by their teenage to early-20s sons.

I brought the facial camera up on the screen closest to the screen showing the movie. Then, moving my eyes back and forth, I took stock of the movie’s effect on my mother.

Mum chewed on her bottom lip incessantly, only pausing her chewing to lick her dry top lip. I could see her right shoulder moving slightly, so I panned back to see what she was doing.

To my shock, my mother had lifted her skirt and was playing with her clitoris. Fascinated, I watched as my mother circled her pleasure nub with her finger before sliding that finger down her slit and into her pussy.

Disgusted with myself, I turned on the recording equipment. I didn’t want to do this, but having my mother recorded and edited tastefully by me was better than the alternative. There would be nothing tasteful about the recordings the loan shark’s goons forced her to do.

I checked how well the cameras were recording. The extra money I’d spent to get the high-resolution cams was paying off. The pictures were crystal clear, the colour was excellent, and there was no jumping.

“Xavier, how do you turn the sound on?”

“On the TV remote, there’s a mute button. Push that and see if it unmutes the sound.”

The sounds of many people being forcefully fucked filled the room.

“Bit loud, don’t you think, mum?” I yelled over the cacophony.

“Sorry,”

The sounds sank to a more reasonable level.

Remembering that I had microphones and speakers in the cameras, I flicked the switch to turn them on.

Smiling because my mother had her hand back on her pussy, I spoke into the control room’s microphone.

“Mum, what are you doing?”

My mother snatched her hand back onto her lap.

“Nothing, Xavier. I’m just watching the movie.”

“There are cameras everywhere, mum, remember?”

With her alabaster skin, when my mother blushes, you can watch the progress of her blush as it suffuses her body. The redness grows down from her hairline and then across her face and neck. If she’s really embarrassed, it even colours her collarbones and down her upper chest.

Mum was so profoundly embarrassed I could see her glow through her white top.

“You look so beautiful when you blush, mum,” I told her, causing her to blush further.

“Stop teasing your mother, Xavier,” she pretended to growl. “Come out here and sit with me. I want to know about these movies you want to make.”

Widening the scope of the frontal camera to include the entire couch, I joined my mother on the sofa.

“Sit closer, honey,” mum said, patting the seat beside her.

When I moved, mum turned so that her upper body pointed towards me. She placed her left elbow on the couch and her left hand behind her head. Her perfect ‘C’ sized breasts were brushing against my upper arm.

With her right hand on my thigh just above my knee, mum said, “Tell me about these secretive movies you want to make, Xavier.”

I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I wasn’t because my hormones and libido were raging. My cock throbbed, my ass clenched, and I had a dull throbbing ache in my balls from my need to cum. That being so, I didn’t give mum my cover story. Instead, I explained what I wanted to do precisely.

When I had finished, mum said, “You think mother/son incest is prevalent in our society, and you want to encourage more of it?

There was a long pause.

“Xavier, do you want to make love to your mummy?”

Blushing at my error, I tried to equivocate.

“In answer to your first question, that isn’t what I said. What I said was I thought it was at least as prevalent as father/daughter incest and only slightly behind sibling incest. I want to test my theory that consensual incest between mature adults isn’t mentally detrimental to either party.

To test this theory, I want to record mothers and sons making incestuous love and then study them to see if there are any long-term consequences.

Selling the movies I make from the recordings will help fund my research and give you and me a better standard of living.”

“Xavier, my boy. You didn’t answer my other question.”

“Which was?”

“Do you want to make love to your mummy? Make love to me?”

Almost crying, I replied, “Yes, mum. I’ve wanted you ever since I turned eighteen, but the need has been so strong since I saw you sleeping on your bed nearly naked.”

“You stood at my door masturbating.”

“You saw me? I thought you were asleep.”

“I left the door open on purpose, honey. I wanted you to see me. I wanted you to see and desire your mum. That’s why all I was wearing was that skimpy robe.”

It was my turn to stare wonderingly at her.

“Mum, do you want your son to make love to you?”

“Xavier, I have only been made love to by a man once. The night your dad made me pregnant.”

Could that be true, I wondered. I thought back over what I could remember. As far as I knew, my mother had never gone out with someone. So that meant she didn’t date when she was home, but I assumed mum would have had some fun when she was off on shoots.

“Really, mum? Why on earth?”

“I loved your dad so much, Xavier. We dated from grade 8. But, being a good Catholic girl, I would never let your dad even touch me sexually until we were married. But, on my eighteenth birthday, your father told me if I didn’t have sex with him that night, he was dumping me for my best friend, Roxy.

Roxy had turned eighteen early in the year, and she wasted no time getting rid of her virginity. I love Roxy, but she’s a bit of a slut, you know?”

I knew ‘Aunty’ Roxy well. She is about the only friend mum has. So when mum went on photoshoots, I stayed with Roxy and her family. Roxy has two sons from two different fathers and a daughter from another.