Having sex with Robby, my sixteen-year-old son, was not due to being sexually neglected by my husband because I wasn't and he fucks like a stallion, but the fact remains that I have been engaged in a sexual relationship with my own son for the last two years, and it is entirely all my fault.

When I think about it there have been many decisions that I had made that, when all added together is the reason why I allow my son to fuck me whenever he wishes, starting the day that I got pregnant with him.

Jim, my husband, and I became sexually active while we were sophomores in high school and although I was not on the pill, we managed to keep from getting knocked up by the use of condoms, or rubbers as we called them.

Having sex with Jim was very enjoyable and many times it was I who was the aggressor, which led to my getting pregnant. It was the summer after our sophomore year when Jim was invited to join our family on our annual vacation when I got pregnant, which was my fault that it happened.

My dad had rented this big ass motor home that he drove up to Wisconsin and for the first three days all we did was hang out at the beach, or do a little fishing, but no sex since we couldn't find time alone, which left be a bit horny.

Finally on the forth day my parents took a hike around the lake, leaving Jim and I an hour to have a little fun. The next day when mom and dad took a ride into town with the couple that was camped next to us is when it happened.

Jim usually had a couple of rubbers with him, but for some reason he only had one, and that was used the day before, but that didn't stop me. I did a quick calculation as to when I had my last period, and assured Jim that I was "safe", but that was not the case.

It took almost two months before I realized my mistake, and having to tell my parents was, well sort of hard.

As expected, both my parents as well as Jim's were quite upset about everything, and Jim's parents wanted me to have an abortion, but I flat out refused.

The following spring instead of making plans for the prom, I was reading books on childbirth and caring for a baby. One of my girlfriends was visiting and one of the things I noticed in the book she brought over was the chapter about circumcision of the baby. Both of us made a face when we read what that was all about, and she made the comment that it had hurt. I mean having a piece of dick being sliced off had to hurt, right?

Well, I knew right then and there that there was no way that was going to happen if my baby was born a boy. When I discussed that with my doctor, she advised that I change my mind about it, saying it was healthier for the child and if there were any pain, the baby more that likely would not realized pain. Of course she couldn't guarantee the baby wouldn't feel any pain, so I held fast on my decision not to have that done.

Well as it turned out I did have a baby boy and his little dick was left intact, and that was one of the major reasons I am now fucking him.

Robby was just a little over a year old when Jim and I finished high school and the following December when I turned eighteen we got married.

My mother as well as Jim's mom was quite helpful after Robby was born, each taking turns caring for him while Jim and I were at school, and again when we both started full time jobs.

Hearing that I got pregnant again right after we got married had our parents quite upset again, but they remained very helpful with the new baby, this time a girl we named Rhonda.

Every since I was little girl it was my dream to become a nurse, but without the funds to attend college and the other training that didn't happen, but I did get a job as a nurse assistant.

Jim was pretty lucky that his uncle set him up with a job at a place that made toolboxes, and as time passed Jim worked his way up to the position as plant manager.

We were married for just over five years when it was discovered that I had ovarian cancer and went through a complete hysterectomy, leaving Jim a little upset that were no longer could have children.

The hospital where I worked was a few blocks from the school that Robby and Rhonda attended and since I started at 9:00 a.m. I was able to drive them to school, and Jim's workday ended in time for him to be there to pick them up, a perfect situation.

Of course, things don't always go right and one day Jim came home with some bad news. The plant he worked for was re-location, and although he could keep his job, it meant moving our family three hundred miles away.

Both Robby and Rhonda were very upset to hear of the possibility of moving away from their friends, as well as I leaving my job, so I asked Jim to seek another job. As it turned out the owner of the company he worked for helped him get a similar job at another company that actually paid more and had better benefits, but it was not a day job.

Jim was all that excited to work a second shift but he relented after I pleaded with him.

With Jim now working at night I had a lot of time on my hands, so I bought one of the home gyms and began working out every night. I was never overweight or flabby in any way, but a daily exercise program tightened up everything just right, something that Jim found very pleasing, and as it turned out so did Robby.

I was well aware that all teen boys Robby's age would masturbate and finding wads cum filled toilet tissues in his wastepaper basket was no shocking discovery, but the amount was. Every Saturday when I did my house chores I would find dozens of tissues in his basket, and knew he did it quite often.

It didn't dawn on me at the time, but Robby would watch me while I worked out and would suddenly disappear for a while. I guess that even though I was his mother, seeing me in those skimpy tight body hugging workout outfits I wore got him aroused.

One day I decided that along with my workout routine I needed something else to keep me busy so I figured some sort of hobby would do the trick, and I settled on making candles, why I don't know, but that's what I did.

One evening I was heating up some candle wax on the stove when my sister called, and while engrossed in the conversation we were having I had completely forgotten about the melting wax until I noticed the flames coming from the pot.

I quickly hung up the phone and turned back to the stove just as Robby was walking through the back door. In an attempt to help and without thinking he grabbed the pot, but unfortunately he hadn't used the oven mittens. Between the almost red-hot cast iron pot and the melting wax that spilled out over his hands, Robby's hands looked extremely burned.

I wrapped his hands as quickly as I could in ice and rushed him to the hospital emergency room for treatment.

As I had thought Robby did suffer severe burns on both hands, and two hours later we were leaving the hospital with both of his hands wrapped in bandages.

The emergency physicians treated Robby's injury and suggested that we contact our family doctor for further treatments, and as expected Robby was told that his burns were quite severe and would need to be bandaged until totally healed, and not to let the bandages get wet when bathing.

The evening I had to help Robby get undressed, which wasn't all that big of a deal, but as for him taking a shower, well that is when we had a problem.

I wrapped both of his hands inside a large freezer bags to keep the bandages from getting wet, but other than just standing in the shower spray he couldn't do much of anything else.

To solve that problem, I had Robby dress in a pair of his cotton gym shorts and I used the soapy washcloth to bath him. All went well with that for a couple of day until Robby complained of severe soreness on his penis. It dawned on me that he was instructed a few years back that he needed to push the foreskin back all the way in order to completely clean his penis, but was unable to do to the bandages.

After taking once again to the doctor I was given a prescription for an ointment that would take care of his problem, but just how it was going to be applied presented a new one.

I told him that his father could take care of that, but Robby quickly protested, leaving me as the only other alternative, which brought another protest.

"Mom, you can't do that."

"Robby don't be silly. I have see it plenty of time in the past."

"Yeah, when I was six or seven."

"Robby, I seen plenty at the hospital, and besides you didn't get all bent out of shape when the doctor looked at it so it's you father or me, you decide.

That night I bathed him without the shorts he had been wearing, and after his shower I eased the foreskin back over the head of his penis. It was almost like the skin that covered the head of his penis had shrunk, and pushing it completely back was somewhat painful, but I finally succeeded.

I felt him jerk a bit when I touched his penis and was praying that he wouldn't become aroused, something that would be an embarrassment to both he and I.

As I applied the ointment over the entire head of his penis I noticed that he appeared to ejaculate, not much, but the slippery substance that oozed out told me that he did, even though he hadn't gotten an erection.

The instructions on the tube of ointment said this had to be done for four days, or until the foreskin could be pushed back and forth with out any pain, and the inflammation had dissipated.

The next evening was just like the night before, and again I could have sworn that Robby "getting off' by my applying the ointment.

After the third night all the inflammation had left, and pushing the foreskin back over the head of his penis was done with no effort or pain, the ointment did its job.

The following evening I bathed him as I did the first time, he wearing his gym shorts, but after rinsing the soap off of him he said something that was totally shocking.

"Mom, I think you should wash me down there real good. I don't want that pain to come back."

I lathered up his penis real good and pushed the foreskin back and ran the palm of my hand over the head of his penis and again I saw what I sure was sperm oozing out.

For some reason I began to think that Robby had a problem, a problem that older men had and that was not being able to get it up when aroused.

The next night I took my time bathing him, washing both his testicles, which I found to be quite large for a young boy, and took even longer tending to his penis.

Suddenly Robby's legs began to shake, and I was more than certain that I had just made him cum, causing him to almost topple over in the shower. I knew what had happened, but I played it cool.

"Robby, did you step on the soap? You almost fell over. You have to be careful not to get the bandages wet."

Later I thought about what happened, and that was I had made my son cum by giving him a hand job, a thought that sent tremors through me.

When it came time to bath him again I quickly washed him, but nothing else, at least not right away.

"Mom, aren't you going to wash me?"

I knew what he wanted, and that was to get him off again. I was about to say no when it dawned on me; he was unable to do that himself, not with the bandages on his hands.

"Robby, I understand what you're asking, but not in the shower. You almost fell over last night. Go to your room and I'll be in there in a few minutes."

I knew what I was going to do should never happen, but he couldn't do it himself, and since I had already done it, even though on accident, would it be that awful.

Robby just stared at me as I slowly closed the door behind me, waiting a few seconds before I eased towards his bed.

"Do I need to put some of the ointment on you, or is it something else your asking"

Before he could answer, I took a deep breath and removed the blanket that covered him and held he soft cock in my left hand while I fondled his large nuts with my left.