Mother, Is That You?

by TitMilker

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Incest, Mother, Son, Lactation, .

Desc: Incest Sex Story: I may have posted this under the wrong title, sorry. Just another submission with my usual lactation theme involving mother/son. Still looking for that special female to help write something along similar lines. Sorry, I don't personal interviews but write and we'll discuss the matter.

Fifteen can be a very awkward age for a boy. I mean at that age your hormones suddenly leap into overdrive and sex becomes extremely important. Sex, but not the having of it. Sigh, how is a young man supposed to deal with the constant erections? He does what most young boys do; jerk off.

Seldom does a day pass that I don't whack off at least twice and occasionally three times. Of course, in order to make it three times I have to be aroused. And I'm not ashamed to admit the reason for such arousal. Mom. She's such a good-looking woman and only thirty-one. (Do the math; she was sixteen when I was born.) I was well into being thirteen the first time I jerked off thinking of Mom. Suddenly she had become a woman that caught my newly developed fascination with females and sex.

Maybe it would be best if I told you a little about my mother. She's good-looking but not anywhere near like those girls in Penthouse or Playboy. No, mom doesn't have huge tits and a skinny waist. Her hips aren't large but you couldn't call them slender, after all, she did give birth to me. Mom is wholesome and in my mind very sexy. I checked her bra size, 36C, and slipped on to my room. I took it from the dirty clothes and her smell was still there. I quickly grew an erection and began beating the hell out of my meat. As my climax came closer, I cupped on bra cup over the head of my cock and filled it with my cream. (I guess now I'm supposed to be telling you I came gallons but I was barely into puberty so it was more like a few teaspoons.)

Just before I turned fifteen mom gave birth to my sister. I guess I was happy but something kept nagging in the back of my mind. For three months, I couldn't figure out why, and then it hit me. I was jealous. My little sister was having her way with mom's milk filled breasts. She was getting all the attention and mom's much larger boobs. (If you haven't figured it out yet, I have a thing for female breasts. You know boobs, tits, milk givers and lung warts.)

There were many times I found mom's soiled nursing bras and squirreled them to my bedroom. Alone I would sniff and lick at the dried milk secretions left in the stained cups while jerking my stiff cock. Just when I was about to climax, I would put the cup to my cockhead and spray it full. (I was older and definitely sprayed rather then dribbled.) In the back of my mind, I suppose I secretly hoped mom would find what I had done and confront me. Naturally, in my demented mind, I would confess and she would take me to her breast and allow me to nurse. At the same time, in my dreams, she would be stroking my cock and fondling my cum filled balls. I knew none of these fantasies would ever come true, but it was nice thinking about them.

When my sister was four months old tragedy struck when a drunk driver killed her and my dad. (Author note: I'm a professional truck driver and have been for almost thirty-five years. The thought of anybody getting behind the wheel of a vehicle of any kind after drinking makes me sick. Matter of fact, I would willing face any judge in the country and explain why I caused that persons demise. Yes, I drink, but I keep it confined to home and don't endanger the lives of others.) I took it hard but mom became a basket case. She was depressed, moody and just not at all fun to be around. I guess I wasn't much better. The only good thing that came was us becoming extremely close.

About now I'm suppose to be telling you how mom and I got it on and fucked ourselves silly, but that's not what happened. True, we hugged and cried together often. We would sit and talk about dad and sis and then wipe away the tears. Often we would simply sit in the front room watching TV, me relaxing with mom resting her head on my lap. More than once, she would innocently lay her hand on my thigh and I could feel the heat of her hand burning through my pants. Frequently she would lightly stroke my thigh but never it what would seem a sexual manner while I had one hand resting on her side just below her breast. It never failed that I would slowly begin to feel myself becoming aroused and greatly feared she would feel my cock swelling as her cheek pressed against it. Think about it; what young boy wouldn't feel fear that his mother would notice his cock getting hard inches from her lips?

What can I say? Mom was still sexy looking to me and her breasts were still large. I can only guess it was because she was still full of milk. A few times mom would get up and leave me alone. She would close the bathroom door obviously because she needed to pee. When she would come back there was always that look of relief that I only figured was because her bladder was empty. Show you how much I knew about women when they lactate.

The only good thing about this time in our lives was it was summer and I didn't have school. That meant I could stay up late and often it was almost midnight before we decided to call it a night. Mom would kiss my cheek and I would go to bed. I would close my door, strip and get into bed. For some reason I had developed the habit of sleeping naked. I loved the rough feeling of sheets that had been dried outside instead of in a dryer next to my naked skin. It was also normal that I went to bed sporting an erection from mom's head resting on my lap and her casual stroking of my thigh.

Even at that age I was more of a man between my legs than most adults could lay claim. In my curiosity I decided one day to find out how big I had become. Finding a cloth measuring tape in mom's sewing basket I waited until I was as erect and hard as I could get. Eight inches long and five and a half inches around wasn't what I would call bad for only fifteen. From what I had read and heard six to six and a half was average so I considered myself extremely lucky.

It really didn't matter to me how big or small I was, jerking off was still a very pleasant pastime. Most of the time I could still feel the heat of mom's hand on my thigh and the touch of her breast against my leg as I stroked myself to climax. After only a few times I learned to keep a towel with me to catch the spending of my cock. I didn't want mom to find my sheets soiled with my spending.

Two months after dad and sis were killed I was dreaming. There was a girl at school I liked and she was almost as sexy to look at as mom. In my dream she had become sexually aroused and was fumbling with my pants. Before long she had my pants down to my ankles with her lips surrounding my turgid cock. Her mouth was hot and wet as she pumped her face up and down my rigid cock. I felt her fingers clutching my balls gently squeezing and caressing them. My breath was coming in harsh gasps as she brought me closer and closer to my orgasm. I could feel my cock swelling as her lips clamped hard on my shaft and the cum boiled up from my sperm filled balls.

My hands felt the hair of her head and drew her sucking lips closer to my groin forcing most of my rampant cock into her greedily sucking mouth. I could feel the back of her throat and when she swallowed I lunged forcing my cock to penetrate even more deeply. My orgasm would blast from my cock erupting with torrents of cum flooding her mouth. I could feel her throat tighten as she swallowed and more cum would fill her sucking mouth. She would stop squeezing my balls when my climax ended and I would be left feeling sexually relieved.

One morning I was having the same dream when after I had climaxed I could have sworn I felt my bed moving. My mind told me it was because I had woken up and it was my thrashing that caused the bed to move. I was naked down to my feet and my cock was limp. I expected to find puddles of thick cum on my chest and belly but didn't. What I did find were puddles of liquid so thin they reminded me of skim milk. Even dipping my fingers into them I didn't feel the thick slimy cream that should have been my cream. I was puzzled but finally decided I had been shooting so much that it could only get weak and thin.

I grabbed my morning shower, dressed and felt the pangs of hunger. Mom was in the kitchen fixing breakfast. Her back was to me and I stopped to admire the sight she gave me. For some reason she wasn't wearing her robe, only her baby-doll nightgown. Wow, I thought, she sure has nice legs. Next came the sight of her lightly covered buttocks and that was better than her legs. Fate stepped in and mom turned around forcing my jaw to smash my toes. The top of her baby-doll was almost totally shear and I'm talking why bother wearing it? Her breasts wiggled as she turned and bounced when she stopped. Under the thin material I could easily see her breasts, her nipples and the seepage of her milk. She was so wet her top was plastered to her chest. There was something white at one corner of her mouth and when she faced, me her tongued lashed out licking it away. Mom smiled.

"It's about time you got up. Sit down and eat."

Mom brought my breakfast and my eyes were glued to her exposed breasts as she bent over placing my plate on the table. Both of them wobbled and I swear I saw white drops oozing from her nipples.

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Story tagged with:
Incest / Mother / Son / Lactation /