Chapter 1

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Incest, Mother, Son, .

Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A mother and son inadvertantly come together.

It happened on a weekend, when I went to visit my son Mark at college. He lived a little less than an hour away, not making it unusual for me to spend the night there, rather than drive home. Sometimes I'd visit for the day and other times to spend an evening, depending on our respective schedules. But regardless what we did or for how long, I was there simply to visit him.

We had a wonderful relationship, and he was never a source of worry or problematic, when he lived at home. And when he moved away, it broke my heart.

My weekend visits were also a way for me to share in his college experience. In a sense, I suppose I was living vicariously through him, albeit more directly. When I was eighteen, I became pregnant with him, my first child, and didn't graduate from college until I was twenty-six years old. During that time, I brought three more children into the world with my husband and that necessitated me spending the lion's share of time caring for them. I took classes when I could here and there, but what I missed out on was the social life of a college student. While my peers were out dancing and going to parties, I was at home changing diapers. Not that I felt somehow cheated out of my rightful due, rather visiting Mark afforded me the opportunity to occasionally sample the lifestyle I never had the chance to partake in.

Sometimes we'd catch a movie, maybe go out to dinner and stop by a nearby bar for some dancing, and other times we'd go someplace quiet and talk, catching up and exchanging stories from school and home. Maybe it was bowling, Frisbee golf, or going for a bike ride. We rarely made definite plans, preferring to go along with wherever the time and mood took us.

It was the weekend before the start of spring break of his sophomore year. His dad and I had plans for Saturday, so I drove up to visit Mark Friday evening with the intent on spending the night and driving home in the morning.

He had just turned 21 years old and, standing at a solid six feet, towered over me by a good seven inches. He was built like his dad: large and strong and with the same jovial demeanor and ever-present smile on his face. All mothers like to say it, and I'm no different, but Mark was a very handsome young man. He had a serious girlfriend named Beth, and I don't think there was a doubt in anyone's mind that they would probably wed one day.

When I did go to visit him, sometimes I stayed in his room in the resident hall, although at times it could be quite noisy there long into the night on the weekends. So there were occasions when I'd get a hotel room, in order to get a solid night of sleep. On this particular weekend, I stayed with Mark in his room.

Something else I should mention is that I have a tendency to move around quite a bit in my sleep. More than a few times, I'd toss and turn so much, that I'd roll right out of bed and onto the floor with a heavy thump, usually bonking my head. At home, my husband and I had our bed against a wall. I'd sleep on the inside, while he slept on the outside, thus preventing me from rolling out. When I stayed with Mark, he did likewise, sleeping next to me in his small dorm room bed. Even though he never said as much, I knew he didn't like it. He was a big fella, after all, and with two of us in his tiny bed, and compound on that my incessant movement during the night, he probably didn't get much sleep.

And so it was on that Friday night, after we had returned to his room from an evening of dancing at the bars, that we crawled into bed and went to sleep. Very early, in the wee hours of the morning, I awoke briefly and rolled over, facing Mark. When I did so, my hand inadvertently landed on his groin. And in that moment of semi-consciousness, I realized he had an erection under his shorts. Of course, in that state of mind, it didn't quite click as to whom it was sleeping next to me. At home in bed with my husband, there had been numerous times over the years that something very similar had happened. I snuggled up closer to Mark, still unaware it was him, and slipped my hand under the waistband of his shorts, wrapping my fingers around him. I remember smiling to myself and began slowly stroking him, still lying there with my eyes closed and my mind half asleep. I felt his chest rise and he began to stir ever so slightly. Sensing he was enjoying the sensations I was giving him, I carefully pushed his shorts down with my hand, and resumed stroking him.

He was long and very rigid, very warm. I suppose in my mind, I thought I was at home with my husband. So when Mark put his hands on mine, still firmly wrapped around his cock, I simply allowed him to do as he wished. With both his hands on mine, he began gently thrusting his hips, driving his cock through my fingers. And after another minute or so, he groaned and I felt his cock swell and begin spurting. After he came, I remember smiling in my state of semi-sleep, and running my hand all over his chest. Then I drifted off into unconsciousness.

I'm not sure how much time had passed, but the next thing I recall, I was lying on my back and felt an intense tingling between my legs. I moaned softly and spread my knees, probably thinking it was a wonderful wet dream. Then I felt something enter me. My mind was still in a haze, and I spread my knees further and reached down between my legs. To my surprise, I felt a hand already there, two fingers massaging deep inside me. It didn't even dawn on me to wonder who was doing this. It felt so good, that I didn't even care. When my orgasm struck, I whimpered and snapped my legs tightly around the hand giving me so much pleasure. And then I drifted once more into sleepy oblivion.

When I awoke, Mark was sleeping soundly next to me. I slowly sat up, wiping the sleep from my eyes, and looked around. The sun was already shining brightly through the window. I looked over at the clock on his desk and, when I saw the time, I jumped out of bed. It was nearly 10am and I was supposed to be home by 11am. Mark sat up, still groggy, and watched me search for my clothes. I still had on my blouse, though it was completely unbuttoned and hanging open. The straps of my bra were also hanging down my shoulders, allowing my breasts to jiggle loosely in the cups.

"Where's my panties?" I asked, frantically searching around on the floor. I was in such a hurry that I pushed aside any pause to consider why I wasn't wearing them. And I didn't care that my own son was watching me nude from the waist down.

He made a tentative movement to look around on the bed, but I found them on the floor and quickly stepped into them.

"Your shorts are over there," he said softly, pointing to the door to his room. "Ok, thanks," I replied, hastily buttoning my blouse, and then walked over to retrieve my shorts. I slipped them up my legs, and then went back to his bed and sat down, pulling on my shoes. Mark lay there leaning on one elbow watching me. When my shoes were on, I stepped over to his mirror and quickly checked my hair. Then I grabbed my purse off his desk and shot for the door. Just as I opened it, I turned around. He was staring at me with a slightly confused smile on his face. I grinned briefly, and then closed his door and walked back over to him. Leaning down, I gave him a quick peck on the forehead, told him I loved him, and that I'd see him in a few days, when he came home for spring break.

It wasn't until I was at last driving home that I had time to take in everything that had happened. It all started to slowly come back to me. At first I wondered about not having my panties on, and that led to trying to recall what had transpired during the night. I was sitting at a red light when suddenly I thought, "Oh God... did he fuck me?!" With no other cars around, I quickly turned into a gas station and jumped out of the car, dashing for the restroom. Inside, I locked the door behind me and unzipped my shorts. My hands were trembling with fear, as I pushed down my panties. I used my fingers to gingerly spread myself open, hoping I wouldn't find any sign that we'd had intercourse during the night; that is, there wouldn't be any semen. I felt around on the outside, and carefully slipped a finger into myself. I sighed in relief, when it came out with nothing clinging to it. Then I quickly dressed and resumed the drive home.

For the next forty-five minutes, I thought about what we had done. It all seemed like a dream, but a very real and vivid one. For my part, if I can plead any kind of defense, I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. Did Mark? That's what I wondered. Did he remove my panties or did I? In that state of mind, I very well could have done it. There'd been more than a few times when my husband and I had sex during the night and, come morning, I didn't recall much of it. My bedtime clothes would be scattered on the floor of our bedroom, but I didn't recall taking them off, though I know I must have. I told myself it would be ok. It wasn't like we had sex. It was merely a momentary lapse in judgment when both of our capacities for rational thought weren't functioning at their fullest. I began to wonder what Mark was thinking about all of this. Was he mad? No, I thought, he couldn't be. He must have known what he was doing, when he had his fingers inside me. And, God, was that an intense orgasm. The more I thought about it, the less it bothered me; the more I came to accept it. And by the time I arrived home, I was actually trying to relive some of it in my mind; trying to recall the intense pleasure I had felt, both in giving and receiving.

The next day, around noon, the phone rang and my husband answered it. I came out of my office to the living room where he sat. He was talking to Mark. I sat on the steps next to the couch and listened, and when my husband saw me, he smiled, as he talked with our son.

"Ok," he said. "No problem. See ya later. Bye."

"That Mark?" I asked.

My husband hung up the phone and nodded. "Said he's gonna stay at school over break. Everyone is going somewhere at his job, so he told his boss he'd stick around to help pick up the slack for the week."

He went back to reading his book, while I sat there wringing my hands.

"That all he said?" I asked, trying to hide my nervousness.

He turned a page and nodded. "Yep," he replied.

I slowly stood and walked back to my little office. Inside, I closed the door behind me and looked at the phone on my desk. I walked over and picked it up, quietly dialing Mark's number. Then he answered.


I gripped the phone with both hands and tried to sound normal.

"Hey..." I said softly.

"Oh, hey. I just talked to dad. He tell ya? I'm gonna stay here for the week, since we're gonna be shorthanded."

My mouth was dry and I went to speak, but only coughed. Mark chuckled. "You ok?" "Yeah," I said. "So... You're just gonna work then?" "Well, it'd be nice to have the extra money," he replied. I wrapped my hand around the cord. "And you're... you're ok, though?" I asked hesitantly. "Yeah, I'm fine." "You're not mad?" "Why would I be mad?" he said with a light laugh. I closed my eyes and sighed in relief. "Alright," I said. "I guess I'll talk to you later. Bye. I love you." "I love you, too... and hey, I'm not mad... about anything." My heart nearly stopped, when he said that. "O-ok," I stuttered and hung up.

I pushed the phone across my desk and sat down heavily in my chair, not knowing what to think of that conversation.

Tuesday morning, I was online chatting with a friend via instant messenger. No sooner had he left, than Mark came on. I don't know why, but my heart suddenly started racing. Just as I was sending him a message, one from him popped up on my screen.

"Hey what's up?"

"Was just chatting with a fella. How're you?"

"Fine," he replied.

And then I froze. I didn't know what to say. Even though we weren't exactly face-to-face, it did feel a bit awkward. I tried to think of something to say.

"And how is work?"

"Just fine," he said.

"Well, that's good."

I can't say for sure, but he seemed to be having the same sense of unease, as myself. Typically, when we talked online together, it was fast-paced. The only time it slowed down was when something distracted us on our respective side of the keyboard. But it was becoming obvious that something was different now.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked.

"Oh, no one really. Just a guy I met online a few months ago."

"Having net sex with him? lol"

I chuckled. The truth is, yeah, I sort of wanted to. He lives on the other side of the country, but I'm certainly not the type to go fooling around behind my husband's back. God, no! I suppose I looked at it as merely a bit of harmless fun. But to be honest, yeah, sometimes I get bored, like anyone else, and, well, I masturbate just to pass the time.

"That would be none of your business, pal!" I replied, but perhaps as an unconscious tease, added, "And so what, if I was? Jealous or something? :P"

There was a brief pause, and then Mark replied, "I don't know! Should I be?? :D"

I smirked. That was a good question. In a way, yes, I wanted him to be a little jealous.

"He just wanted to see what I was wearing, that's all. No biggie."

There was a pause, and then Mark replied, "You showed him on your webcam?"

"Yeah, of course. How else would he see me?"

Mark paused, and started typing.

"What did you show him? Just curious."

My heart began racing again and I replied, "Wanna see?"


I turned my webcam on and, with a shaking hand, reached up and angled the camera atop my monitor downward. Mark could now see me. I glanced up at the black eye of the camera and tried to smile, giving him a quick wave.

"Hi there!" he typed.

I chuckled. "Hi there, back at ya, mister!"

I took a deep breath and waited. Then he began typing.

"That's it?" he asked. "You just showed him this?"

I fidgeted in my chair, replying, "Well... yeah, sorta."


"I sorta showed him more. It was just some harmless fun, is all. Nothing major."

"Ohhhhh ok. If you say so!!" he said.

Now my hands were visibly shaking, making it difficult to type.

"Um... wanna see?" I asked. But then I paused, just before hitting the send button. This was it. I'd be making a step in that certain direction. And what if I was wrong about all of this? What if Mark wanted to forget what happened the previous weekend? Just as important, and perhaps more so, was why couldn't I get it out of my head? Why did I keep dwelling on it, replaying it in my mind? Before I could put too much thought into it, I clicked on the send button.

I waited for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few seconds.

"sure" came his terse reply.

I swallowed and took a deep breath, pushing my chair back from the desk. I reached up and angled the camera more to take in a shot of my entire torso. I smiled nervously at the black eye staring back at me, but quickly looked away. It wasn't just a random viewer watching me. It was my son. That black lens was his eyes looking directly at me; looking at my body.

Still nervously shaking, my hands went to the hem of my sweatshirt and pulled it over my head in one quick movement. I dropped it to the side on the floor and sat back in my chair, placing my hands in my lap, sitting there in my white bra facing the monitor, trying to avoid eye contact with the camera. My chest rose sharply as I breathed, knowing Mark was taking me in. After about a minute of silence, he began typing again.

"That seems harmless."

I grinned and leaned forward to the keyboard.

"Told ya!" I replied, and then quickly sat back.

"You shown other guys this?" he asked.

I leaned forward again. "Um... Yeah, a few."

"This is all you show them?"

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, as I typed an answer.

"No," I said, typing slowly. "Sometimes I show them more. Not always, but sometimes. Depends on my mood."

Another brief pause, and Mark asked what else I showed them. This time, I didn't hesitate. I knew if I did, I wouldn't follow through on it. I pushed away from the desk and, without looking at the camera, reached back behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it fall from my shoulders. I pulled it off my arms and dropped it to the floor with my shirt. Then I sat back, placing my hands on the arms of the chair, staring back at the monitor. Mark didn't say anything for a long time. I built up my courage, and then slowly brought one hand up to my breast and began caressing it. The flickering ember that had been lit earlier during my previous conversation with my friend was now being rekindled. I made myself forget who it was watching me and took my other hand and placed it at the top of my shorts. Then I slowly pushed it under the waistband. When my fingers made contact with my vagina, my jaw dropped slightly and I sighed, closing my eyes. I didn't care who it was now on the other side of the keyboard.

I began gently massaging my clit, while simultaneously caressing my erect nipple. And very soon, I let my head fall back and lost myself in the brief moment of self-pleasure.

When I felt the first twinge of an orgasm approaching, I suddenly remembered Mark. I quickly lifted my head to see if he had sent me a message. Nothing new was on the screen and I feared he might have left. I leaned forward and began typing.

"Still there?" I asked.

I waited for a reply, and when it finally arrived, I sighed in relief.

"Yes," he said.

I pushed one hand back down my shorts and very awkwardly typed with the other.

"You hard?" I asked.

"Yes," came a quick reply.

"Want me to take off my shorts?"

There was a pause, and then he said yes. I pushed my chair back and stood up. Were it any other guy, I would have taken my time doing this in order to be a tease, but instead I hurriedly pushed them down my legs, panties included. When they were pooled around my ankles, I stepped out of them and kicked them off to the side. Then I sat down in my chair, spreading my legs and pushing my ass forward a bit so he could see better.

Now my body had gone into autopilot. It wasn't Mark, my son, any longer, but simply another guy on the Internet. I leaned forward to the keyboard, asking what he thought. "Nice," he replied, followed up rapidly with, "Very sexy". A devilish grin grew across my face and I leaned back, pushing my knees apart and lewdly playing with my vagina, working my way back to where my orgasm had left off.

After a few minutes, just on the brink of erupting, I shot back to the keyboard and asked if he was still hard. He said he was and I asked how hard? "VERY" he replied. I glanced up at the camera and smiled, then asked if he was going to cum soon. "YES" he said. "Me too," I typed. Then I leaned back and brought myself to orgasm, writhing in my chair, groaning loudly and holding my legs up high and far apart. And as it slowly ebbed, I did as I always had when I performed this same act with someone online, and licked my fingers clean, occasionally pausing to gently pinch my nipples and pull outward on them.

When I had finally caught my breath, I smiled up at the camera and winked, wiping a hand over my brow. I pulled my chair back to the keyboard and asked if he had cum.

"hell yes!!!" came his speedy reply.

I laughed, typing back, "That was fun!"

He started typing, but then I realized it was going to become awkward again, if I didn't do something.

"I better go get cleaned up," I said. "You gonna be around tomorrow?"

"Fuck I came hard!!!" he said in his message. Then he quickly replied to mine, asking what time I would be online the next day. I wrote back saying probably the same time, and he said that would work for him, too.

"See ya then!" I said, waving to the camera.


Then I blew him a kiss and logged out.

God, I couldn't believe I'd just masturbated with my son. Then I chuckled and shook my head, thinking it wasn't exactly the first time for that. But I also felt a sense of relief. It wasn't so bad, what we did. It wasn't as though we didn't know what we were doing this time. In fact, in a way, it almost made me feel a little closer to him, as though our relationship had expanded. Not so much changed, as it was more modified. I almost felt elated.

The next morning, I rushed around the bedroom, trying to find something a bit sexier to wear for him. I found a lacey push-up bra and a pair of pink thongs with only a tiny triangular patch of fabric covering my vagina. Over this I wore my usual shorts and t-shirt, and then headed down to my office in the house.

I had my camera on, while I waited for him, and then he arrived. My heart began racing and my knees wobbled. We chatted briefly, but we both knew why we were there. I asked if he was ready to have fun again, to which he replied with an enthusiastic "Hell yes!!" This time, however, I was more deliberate in removing my clothing. I'd take off my shirt and let the image of my breasts, the nipples just poking up over the edge of the bra, get him excited. Then I had him beg me to remove it, as well as my shorts and panties. To be honest, I was just as eager to get naked as he was for me to do so. And when I was completely nude in my chair, we chatted for a few minutes.

"Can you lick your nipples?" he asked.

I chuckled and looked up at the camera atop my monitor, rolling my eyes. He laughed, but then I sat back and scooped up one of my breasts and tried to lean down and lick it. I'm only a decent B cup, so there isn't much leeway for such carnal acrobatics as that, but I managed to get close enough.

"That's REALLY sexy!!" he exclaimed happily.

I laughed, replying, "Well, either my tongue isn't long enough or my boobs aren't quite big enough for that!"

"You have really cute boobs!" he said.

I smirked, saying, "Oh? They're just 'cute'? Gee, thanks. :P" Then I glanced up at the camera and stuck out my tongue. Mark laughed once again and said he thought they were sexy. "That's better," I typed with a chuckle.

I let one hand drop between my legs, and then asked if he was getting hard.

"Been hard for a while!!" he said.

"Mmm," I replied. "Wish I could see that! ;)"

"Me, too."

Just then, my stomach fluttered. The words simply came out on their own, but now that I thought about it, I really wasn't opposed to the idea. My fingers slipped across my wet clit, sending a gentle spark through my body. I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened them, Mark had sent me a message.

"Is your pussy wet?"

I looked up at the camera and nodded, smiling dreamily. Then I brought my hand to my mouth and licked my fingers.

"How's it taste?" he asked.

"Mmm," I replied. "Delicious!"

"You like tasting yourself?"

Once more, I looked at the camera and grinned, licking my fingers seductively for him.

And as I continued to play with myself, his next message nearly made me erupt into an orgasm.

"I'd love to taste you," he said.

I slumped back in my chair and groaned loudly, spreading my legs wide. I was getting closer to orgasm and, in my delirium, asked if he would have rather had me suck him off that night, instead of using my hand?

"YESSS!!!!" he exclaimed.

Teetering on the brink of orgasm and barely capable of typing, I hastily replied, "I'd love to feel you cum in my mouth." Then, just before it struck home, I added, "I'd swallow for you."

That's when my orgasm took over. I managed to have a moment of clarity in thought, and quickly reached for my mouse, clicking on the sound, allowing Mark to hear me in the throws of passion, as well as watch me.

I moaned loudly, humping against both my hands, one fingering myself deeply while the other stimulated my clit.

"Oh fuck," I cried. "... oh fuck, I'm cumming!"

I opened my eyes just in time to see Mark say he was cumming, as well. I smiled and threw my head back, holding my legs out wide so he could get the best possible view.

When my orgasm finally subsided, I sat in the chair with my arms hanging down to the side limp and my legs straight out.

"Fuck!" came a message from him. "That was HOT!"

I managed a weak grin and tried to raise my hand to wave. Then I sat up and, with much effort, pulled my chair to the desk. Just as I started typing, Mark sent me a message.

"Is your pussy all red and wet?"

I chuckled and glanced up at the camera, giving him a wicked smile.

"Wanna see for yourself?" I asked.

"YES" he replied eagerly.

I stood from my chair and took a step back, and then reached for the camera, trying to hold it steady, as I brought it down. I moved my chair to the side and put one leg on the seat, slowly bringing the camera down and angling it up so he could get a good view between my legs. With my free hand, I spread myself open for him.

"Fuck, that is sexy as hell."

With the camera still down there, I slipped my index finger inside me and held myself open for him.

"Shit that is smoking hot," he said.

I carefully raised the camera, setting it atop the monitor, and then looked directly at it and smiled, sticking my index finger in my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. Then, once again without any forethought, I typed, "Bet you wish that was your hot cock inside me, huh?" I hit send, and then remembered to whom I had said that.

"... oh damn..." I mumbled.

To my relief, Mark only winked in reply. Still, I felt like perhaps I'd gone a bit too far in saying that in our little online game. After all, to me, that's what this was: nothing more than a silly role-playing excursion. However, in saying it, I added a bit more realism, and perhaps even sincerity, to it.

We chatted for a few more minutes, though it was rather cute when he asked me not to put my clothes back on so soon afterwards. God, I felt like a high school girl all over again. I bit my finger and giggled and asked him why?

"Cuz you look sexy like that!" he said.

"Ya think so?" I asked coyly.

"Hell yes!"

"Alright," I replied. "Maybe I'll sit here in the buff for ya. How'd that suit ya?"

"Just great!" he said.

So we talked for a short time, and once in a while, I'd let one of my hands slide across my breast, pausing for a moment to pull on the nipple, keeping it nice and erect for my audience of one.

Before our little session of erotic fun ended, he once again complimented me on my looks. I couldn't help but blush and thanked him.

Later while I was taking a shower, I had an idea. I got out and dried off, and went down to find our digital camera. Every now and then, I'd take a few pictures for my husband and send them to him at work; just a little something to brighten his day. Sometimes I was naked or partially so, and other times they would merely be pictures of me clothed around the house. I decided to send Mark a few.

I had a closet full of different types of lingerie, so I took pictures of me in several of them, also in various stages of undress. After I had filled up the camera, I took it down to my office and uploaded them to my computer, and then emailed a few to him. A couple hours later, while checking my mail, I got a reply from Mark about my pictures.

"What a sexy redheaded babe! :D"

I giggled and blushed, and then sent him a few more and said thanks for the nice compliment.

For about the next two weeks, we'd make it a habit of meeting online at certain times of the day to have fun. And our conversations grew progressively more explicit, until we were finally talking about what we wanted to do with the other person. But it almost always reached its crescendo once we hit orgasm. After that, it petered out quite a bit. That sort of became the unwritten rule of our game: leading up to and during orgasm, you could say whatever you like, but afterwards, we toned it down a lot more; things went back to normal. And it got to the point where, in a way, as odd as it may seem, I really didn't think of it as my son on the other end, but just this really sexy guy I knew. And another strange benefit was that it made me much more sexually aroused by the time my husband got home from work. I already had quite a libido, but doing this with Mark seemed to amplify it. My husband and I had a very active sex life, as it was, but this was like giving it a shot of adrenaline. There were times when I couldn't wait for him to come to bed and fuck me. And there were also times when I didn't wait. Once he stepped inside the house, I'd drag him to the bedroom and throw myself at him. He never complained, either.

One day, after getting off with Mark, I was putting my bra back on, when he asked if I was coming for a visit soon. I tried to make it a habit of going at least once a month, and it was about that time again.

"Sure!" I chirped happily. Then I had to think about it. It was one thing to play this game online with someone, but something else entirely to actually meet face-to-face. Not that I ever had or would, but my weekend visits were fairly routine. I enjoyed them, often looking forward to them, and I kept telling myself that I didn't want this game to adversely affect our relationship. If I didn't go, that's what would happen. He and I would both know the reason I wasn't coming to visit. And, eventually, he'd be coming home at some point, whether for a holiday or weekend trip of his own. I'd have to bite the bullet on this one. The ball was in my court and I'd have to act. If I wanted to maintain some semblance of normalcy, then I'd have to force it in that direction, something that at one time, before we started engaging in this behavior, had come naturally.

The following Saturday afternoon, I drove up to Mark's school. The entire way there, I was a bundle of nerves. How would we react upon seeing each other, given what we had been doing? Though it had bothered me terribly, from the beginning, what I had done with my own son nearly a month ago in his room, I also came to enjoy this new aspect of our relationship that had suddenly blossomed out of it. But it didn't simply come to fruition of its own accord. The seed may have been inadvertently sown, but a great deal of conscious effort on both sides had gone into enriching and propagating it. Although I was scared to see him in person, part of me was also excited about it; excited about the possibilities. But I tried not to think on it. I just knew, the more I dwelled on it, the more likely I'd turn around and go home. So I rationalized going on the basis of maintaining our relationship, but deep down, I also knew I had an ulterior motive. To be on the safe side, however, before driving to his resident hall, I stopped at a hotel I occasionally stayed, and got myself a room for the night, then drove over to see Mark.

I parked on the street across from his building and walked inside. The entire way to his room, I felt light-headed and my stomach was a churning and twisting knot. By the time I knocked on his door, my palms were sweaty. When he opened the door and greeted me with a broad smile, I wanted to vomit. Thankfully, I didn't, though it felt like a very distinct possibility.

"Hey!" he exclaimed happily, gesturing for me to come in. I smiled and stepped inside, wringing my hands nervously and trying to look normal and happy. When he shut the door behind me, I whirled around. Something about the sound of the door shutting seemed very definitive, like the start of a new chapter in a book.

Mark went to his tiny dorm room refrigerator and pulled out two sodas, offering me one. I took it and sat on the edge of his bed, while he pulled the chair out from his desk. I took a sip and glanced at him, smiling. He opened his can and grinned in reply. As he held the can to his mouth, my eyes drifted behind him to his desk. His computer sat directly behind him; the same instrument by which we had engaged in numerous taboo acts. I also knew that inside that computer were dozens of pictures of me nude and sexually pleasuring myself; pictures I had taken exclusively for him. Pictures I had hoped would sexually arouse him, my own son. I felt my face turning red and quickly looked away, letting my eyes roam around his room.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked, breaking the long silence.

I rotated the can of soda between my fingers, staring down at it, and shrugged. "Dunno," I replied. "Guess it's up to you." I brought the can to my lips and took a sip, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. He smiled, saying he was up for anything. I couldn't bear another uncomfortable silence, so I asked if he wanted to see a movie. It was that, and then we went to dinner afterwards.

Hours later, as we walked out of the restaurant, the sun was just now setting below the horizon. The evening was still young, and Mark asked if I wanted to do anything else. I stood next to him, with my arms folded on my chest and shrugged.

"Ok," I stammered softly.

"Wanna go play some pool?" he asked.

I shrugged and nodded. I wasn't very good at it, but enjoyed it all the same. And it would keep us busy; keep us moving, avoiding those awkward moments of silence where our minds could dwell more easily on who it was we were with and what kind of relationship we now had with that person; that is to say, a rather intimate one.

We walked to a nearby bar and went inside, finding a pool table far in the back. Near the front of the place was a dance floor, quite empty given the early nature of the evening. But as time passed and daylight gave way to night, more and more college kids entered and soon the bar was crowded to capacity, loud and smelling of beer, cigarettes, and sexually charged appetites. Mark and I shared a single glass of beer, though I never really cared for the taste of that beverage. Still, it served to loosen me up, and very soon we were both laughing and enjoying each other's company as usual, as though nothing had ever changed. And when the last ball on the table had been sunk, we set our cues up on the rack and made our way to front of the bar.

I tugged on Mark's sleeve and he bent down.

"Wanna dance?" I nearly yelled in his ear, given the intense volume of lively chatter and music going on all around us. He smiled and nodded, so I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him through the crowd to the dance floor. Young men and women were moving wildly about, and very quickly Mark and I joined in.

The heavy thumping of the music always had a hypnotic effect on me, and I soon found my mind drifting in that direction. Mark and I danced very closely, given that the dance floor was small and quite crowded. Our bodies rubbed against one another and, as the music carried me away, I became less inhibited, slithering my torso against him and letting my hands roam up and down his body. With his hands on my waist, I rotated my body between them, facing away from him, and ground my ass against his groin. To my delight, I thought I could feel him pressing back into me. Then I wiggled downward against him and he kept his hands in the same position, though now moving up my body as I descended. I stopped when he was cupping my breasts and grinned in the dark, putting my hands atop his and giving them a gentle squeeze. And when I arose, he kept his hands there. I once more rotated my body so I was facing him and placed my arms on his shoulders, smiling up at him. Then I put one leg between his and slowly started grinding down against it. In the darkness, I thought I could see him smiling.

I don't know how long we were out there dancing, but it seemed like quite a while. I'd never danced like that with him before, and it felt exhilarating to do so for the first time. And like those young people hopping around me and dancing to the music, the erotic atmosphere was sexually charging me.

I reached up for Mark's collar and pulled him down to my face. Merely by accident, our faces were nearly touching, our lips very close. We both smiled and I leaned in toward his ear and asked if he wanted to leave. He leaned back and nodded. I grinned and took him by the hand, making our way out of the crowded bar.

Outside, in the cool night air, we walked back to my car, our arms around each other. I was feeling good, very good. And very sexually aroused. My mind began racing, thinking of the possibilities that lay before me now. But the clock was ticking. I had to make up my mind what would happen next, by the time we got to the car. I would either take him back to his room, dropping him off, or drive us back to my hotel. Once more, I was beginning to sweat and became a bundle of nerves.

As we stepped into the car and shut our doors, I started the engine. "Where to now?" he asked. I pulled out onto the street and drove up to the next intersection. The light was red. When it turned green, I had to make a decision: turn right and take him to his room or left and back to my hotel room. My fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly and I glanced at him. Mark smiled and I grinned sheepishly in reply, quickly looking forward again. The light turned green.

"So?" he asked. "Where ya wanna go next?"

The car behind us honked, bringing me back to my senses. I stepped on the gas and made a left hand turn.

Neither of us spoke, as I drove to the hotel. He knew I stayed there sometimes and he probably knew why I was driving in that direction. In the back of my mind, I was hoping he wasn't wondering why I was taking him with me.

My room was on the first floor, the door facing out toward the parking lot. I parked in front of my room and we both exited the car in silence. Standing by the door, I fumbled momentarily with the key and finally managed to open it. As I stepped inside and set my wallet on the credenza, a sudden thought flashed through my mind: would he know to lock the door behind us? Or would he even do so? I didn't want to turn around and look, so I quickly went to my overnight bag and set it upon the bed, opening it. Mark quietly sat down on the edge of the bed next to me, while I fumbled around inside my bag, doing nothing in particular, simply trying to keep my hands otherwise occupied while I tried to think of what to do next.

Mark leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, as he watched.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked.

My hands began trembling, but thankfully they were buried inside my bag, so he couldn't see them.

"Gonna take a quick shower," I mumbled, my voice cracking.

So now that I knew what I wanted to do next, I forced my hands to search for my bath items. That's when I felt something against my leg. The trembling in my hands had now ascended to my arms. Without making it obvious, I glanced to the side and saw Mark's arm extended. It was him. He was touching me. He slowly ran his hand up and down my leg.

"This ok?" he whispered very softly.

My eyes quickly darted back to the bag, and my head jerked up and down. "Mm hm," I squeaked nervously.

I felt his hand slowly rise up the back of my leg under my short skirt. Higher it went until he was gently cupping the cheek of my ass. And when I felt his fingers squeeze softly, an involuntary sigh slipped past my lips. I quickly fished my bath stuff from the bag and glanced down at him.

"I'll be right back," I stammered, and made my way to the bathroom.

Inside, I set my soap and shampoo on the bathroom counter and began undressing. I looked up and saw the door still open. Should I close it? I didn't bother. I was in a hurry to get in the shower and hide. I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, and then pushed my panties down to join it. As I held my chin against my chest, watching my hands fumble with the buttons of my blouse, I noticed a movement behind me. I looked up and saw Mark's reflection in the mirror. He was standing behind me in the doorway. I gave him a nervous grin and looked down at my hands, still working the buttons.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

I could only nod.

I felt him come up behind me and, when my blouse was finally loosened, he helped me take it off, laying it on the counter.

"Thanks," I mumbled. Then I reached back to unclasp my bra, but felt Mark's hands already there.

"I'll get it," he said softly.

I dropped my hands, placing them on the counter in front of me, and tried not to watch his reflection in the mirror, as he removed my bra. He pushed the straps over my shoulders and it fell down my arms. When my breasts came into view, I saw his eyes in the mirror staring at them. I blushed and quickly turned and stepped over to the shower, reaching inside to turn on the water.

Behind me, I could sense more movement, but was too frightened to look. I knew he was probably undressing. I stood there with my arms folded on my chest, waiting for the water to warm, but I couldn't keep standing there with him behind me, so I pulled back the curtain and stepped inside, closing it quickly. The water was still a bit too cool, so I stood there holding my hands under the spray waiting for it to heat up. I looked at the curtain and could see Mark's dark image. I watched as he bent over, apparently pushing down his jeans. Then I saw him step out of them, pulling them off his legs. His hands went to his waist and pushed his underwear down. A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed hard. His murky gray image was moving again, this time toward the shower. I stepped under the shower and held my head up in the water, nervously running my hands over my face.

Suddenly, I felt a pair of hands on my waist. I jumped, still hiding my face in the water.

"Sorry," he chuckled.

"S'ok," I replied.

His hands began to move around to the front of my body and, in a quivering voice, I asked if he could hand me the soap. He released me and turned back to reach down for it on the edge of the tub. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him behind me, completely naked. And when he rose up, I quickly turned back to the water. Instead of handing the bar to me, Mark reached his hands around in front and rolled it between them under the water, building up a heavy lather. Then he placed his soapy hands on my shoulders and began washing my body.

He moved across my shoulders to my neck, and I held my chin down, allowing him greater access. I closed my eyes, and felt his warm hands moving around my back, over my shoulder blades, down further to my waist, and finally to cup my ass in his hands. He started gently kneading my cheeks, and I felt myself begin to relax. And when he slipped a hand deep between my legs, pulling his fingers up between my cheeks, I sighed and pushed back against him. I was going to let him do whatever he liked.

He lathered up his hands again and this time reached around to the front of my body. I lifted my elbows, allowing his hands unimpeded access. I turned my eyes downward and watched as he gently manipulated my breasts, massaging them and carefully teasing the nipples. God, it felt heavenly. After a few moments of that, he let one hand slowly drift down my body. I laid my head back against him, knowing full well his next destination. And when his fingers curled around my vagina, my mouth opened and I sighed loudly.

"This ok?" he whispered in my ear.

I nodded happily, as his fingers gently slipped through my folds.

"How's it feel?" he asked.

"... wonderful..." I sighed.

I brought one of my hands up to his on my breast and placed the other atop his between my legs. Together we manipulated my body in unison. Mark stepped closer and I felt something hard pushing against my ass. My heart fluttered. It was his cock. With his hand still between my legs, I used mine to carefully guide one of his fingers into me. When he knew what I wanted, he took over and slipped the long digit into my body. I groaned, grinding my hips down upon our hands. Then I felt him kissing my neck. I opened my eyes and carefully turned around in his arms. When our eyes met, I smiled and could feel my face turning red from embarrassment. Not only was I showering with my son, but I was also allowing him to touch my body in such a sexually explicit manner, and now he was kissing me. I didn't want that. I didn't want us to be that intimate. I suppose in my mind, kissing was going too far. It would make us lovers and I didn't want to be that way with him.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and pulled him down to my face. But before he could get the wrong idea, I craned my head around to his ear and whispered.

"No kissing, ok?"

Mark pulled back and smiled.

"Ok," he replied.

I wiped the water from my face and patted my hands against his chest.

"Your turn," I said and stepped to the side, allowing him under the spray.

As our bodies slipped past each other, his erection grazed my hip. He stood under the water with his back to me, doing as I had, running his hands over his face and head, soaking his dark black hair. I stepped back a bit and looked at his body. God, it was nice. He was really chiseled quite well, not wholly unlike his dad. I loved big beefy men like them. Mark, like his dad, was so much larger than me, and I adored how a body that size could dwarf my own, when making love.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and began running them over his body. I mimicked his previous movements on my body, letting my hands gently explore his. Over and around his strong back, down to his hips and over his buttocks, and finally up and around to his powerful chest. Mark had a magnificent body. His pecs were hard and his arms large and strong. I stepped up closer behind him and pushed the small patch of pubic hair on my groin against his ass, gently rubbing up and down, making sure he could feel it. His hands dropped from his head and reached down for my waist, pulling me closer. My fingers dug into the muscles of his chest and I was so tempted to kiss and bite his back. Instead, I let my hands leave his chest and slowly make their way down. When they reached his groin, I brought them together and found his amazingly hard cock sticking straight out from his body. We both groaned, as one hand gripped the length of his cock and the other cupped his heavy testicles, cinched up into a tight ball. I worked my hand up and down his full length. In the forefront of my mind, I wanted to feel his powerful tool in my body; in my mouth. I wanted to orally pleasure him, as I did his dad. I loved oral sex and was equally passionate about having such a wonderful cock erupt in my mouth. But then my body wanted more. It wanted to feel this source of sexual pleasure elsewhere... between my legs. My fingers squeezed the head of his cock, and Mark moaned. That brought me back to my senses, and I realized we couldn't have intercourse. I simply couldn't do that with him. Not with my own son. It was bad enough, what we were doing in my hotel room together, but to allow him to fuck me? No. That would be going too far into the abyss.

I released his body and he slowly turned to face me. I grinned up at him and he smiled back in reply. Then my hands blindly reached out for his wonderfully erect cock. He closed his eyes and began slowly thrusting it through my fingers. I looked down and had my first look at it. My heart skipped a beat. It was beautiful. Long and hard with pulsing veins and an angry, engorged purple head. I wrapped both hands around him and began tugging. Mark sighed and placed his hands on my breasts. As he squeezed and pulled on them, I did likewise to his cock.

"God, I'm gonna cum, if you keep doing that," he moaned.

He opened his eyes and looked down at me, almost pleadingly. I giggled nervously and stopped the movement of my hands.

"You like that?" I asked.

His eyebrows rose and he nodded.

"God, yeah."

"Better hurry up," I said, releasing him. "Water's gonna get cold."

And very soon it did.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Heterosexual / Incest / Mother / Son /