I thought that you might benefit from reading about how I lost my virginity with my mother. I think the whole concept of mothers fucking their sons has gotten a very undeserved bad reputation in general society and I thought my experience might help to put the subject into better perspective.
I know that often sons are taken advantage of by their mothers for evil and perverted reasons such as introducing their young adolescent sons to passionate sex with a mature woman for the purpose of addicting their son to erotic sex early in his sexual development and making him their private sex slave; or to break in their son's to sell their services as male prostitutes to frustrated women who want to be fucked by virile, hard, young cocks and have their cunts enthusiastically sucked and licked by young boys' hard tongues; or even to introduce them to orgasmic sex and far out sex acts preparatory to training and conditioning them for sale to service pedophile men who like to ass fuck young boys and have their cocks cleaned and sucked by them afterwards. Truly, those kinds of mothers are indeed evil and perverted and deserve the disgust and approbation of all decent people. They deserve all the punishment that society can heap on them.
My mother was not one of those kinds of evil and perverted mothers. She was, and is today, the most loving and kind mother that any son could ever wish to have. She never consciously intended to turn me into a motherfucker. But sometimes life can take funny twists and turns and create those special circumstances that can come together at just the right moment in time to bring a mother and son together into a very loving, monogamous, sexual relationship. When it happens that way, it can be a very beautiful experience for both mother and son. That's what it was for me, and to this day still is. So, I thought I would like to share my experience as an example of how beautiful a vigorous and complete, incestuous, relationship between a mother and her son can be.
I am now a grown man 27 years old with a beautiful and loving 25-year-old wife. And I am also still involved in a very active sexual relationship with my mother. With her loving encouragement, help, and guidance, I have broadened my sexual experiences with over 30 other beautiful young women before I found the woman who stole my heart. You see, my relationship with my mother is based on our love for one another primarily as mother and son and not just as man and woman. She wants what is best for me in life and understands the importance of nurturing and developing the confidence and self-assurance in young men that results in strong, healthy, masculine egos, but at the same time not to be afraid of expressing soft tender love to their women. So she taught me how to be that kind of strong, self-confident man because she wanted me to find a woman to love and who would love me with the same kind of love that she and my Dad had for each other. From my perspective she has succeeded, probably far beyond even her own wildest expectations.
In putting my story down in words on paper, I have tried to convey the thoughts and feelings I had as if I were still that young, inexperienced teenager at the time my mother claimed my virginity and introduced me to the intoxicating pleasures of the vast and wondrous world of the many varieties of intimate, erotic sex with an experienced and mature woman as she so lovingly taught me how to make love to a woman, and in turn took me to the highest peaks of sexual pleasure that I have ever achieved with any woman. But today I am now a computer systems engineer and software developer and not very adept at expressing myself in writing, so please excuse my clumsy prose.
Title: My Mother: My Lover and My Mistress
My name is Dan Cutler and this story begins when I was 14 years old, two months shy of my 15th birthday. My Mom's name is Angela and at that time she was 32. My Mom and I had been living alone together for almost 5 years since I was 11. My Dad's name was Herb. He had a brain tumor 3 months before my 11th birthday and passed away and that's the reason Mom and I are all alone now. Mom and I were both devastated when Dad died. Dad was the center of Mom's life, and when he died, she just gave up on life and went into such a deep state of grief and depression that I was scared she was going to die too.
I also loved my Dad and I missed him terribly. He was a great father who always included me in everything he did like taking me with him fishing, and letting me help him work on old cars which was his hobby, and always going with me to my Little League baseball games and cheering me on. It was the happiest time of my young life.
Before Dad died Mom was always a happy cheerful Mom, full of energy, always bustling around doing something and planning stuff to make our lives interesting and fun. She was a beautiful woman who always took great care to look her best, especially for Dad. I remember whenever I would want her to do something with me in the afternoon after school, she would often put me off saying, "Not now honey, later. Daddy will be home soon and Mommy has to go and make herself look really pretty for him." I used to laugh and love the way they used to tease and flirt with each other and kiss and hug all the time. And they had a habit of all of a sudden going into their bedroom behind closed doors at all times of the day, and they would tell me to amuse myself playing or watching TV because Mommy and Daddy had to take care of "some business" for a little while. I knew that they were going in to their bedroom to do something called "make love" with each other, but at the time I had no idea what that really meant. It just made me feel good, and yes, safe, to see them both so happy and so much in love with each other.
Dad had been the only man in Mom's life. He and Mom were high school sweethearts who got married just before graduation. (In later years Mom admitted to me that Dad knocked her up with me about five months before graduation but he insisted on marrying her so I would not be a bastard). They even went through college together with the total loving support of both of their parents who took turns caring for me for Mom through her first two difficult years of college, until I had gotten old enough for her to manage both my care and her college work too.
There are many other examples about their life together that Mom related to me in later years that I could write about that would demonstrate how deep and complete was their love for each other. Perhaps I will someday write about those as well. But for now, it's enough to know that I knew Mom missed Dad an awful lot after he died, but I guess I just wasn't old enough to really understand the depth of the love she had for him and the crushing effect his death had on her. But I understand now that Dad was not only my mother's husband, my father, our family provider, and the source of our security, but also my mother's lover and sex partner, and Dad's death had in a sense, brought her to her knees.
As I said, I missed my Dad terribly, but, as the saying goes, time has a way of healing great hurts, especially in young children, and after about a year had passed I was beginning to settle in to a new life routine without my Dad. I still missed him a lot, but I guess I got caught up in life again with school and friends and just growing up. But Mom was still a basket case. She didn't seem to care about anything anymore. She stopped trying to look her best and seemed to lose interest in all the things she loved to do before Dad died. Dad had a life insurance policy that left us with enough money to live on for a while and so there was no reason for Mom to have to find a full time job right away and she just moped around the house all the time in her nightgown and bathrobe doing nothing but watching TV, and frequently bursting out in crying jags for, what seemed to my young mind at the time, no good reason. I was worried for my Mom and scared about what might happen to us, but I just didn't know what to do about it.
This situation persisted for a long time until I was almost 12, and it was the saddest and most depressing period of my life. I tried everything I could to cheer Mom up but nothing worked. One afternoon a couple of days before my 12th birthday I was in my room worrying about what was going to happen to us and crying about the state my Mom was in. She must have heard me, because she opened the door and came in and said,
"What's the matter Danny honey? Why are you sitting here crying all by yourself?"
The flood gates of all my pent up fears and unhappiness just burst and I grabbed her around the waist hugging her tight and buried my head in her stomach and said,
"Oh Mom I love you so much, but I'm so unhappy and scared about what will happen to us. I still miss Dad, but most of all I miss the way you used to be so happy and funny and beautiful all of the time, always thinking of things for us to do to have fun. I hate to see you so unhappy that you don't seem to care about anything anymore, not even me. I love you so much and I want to make you happy again but I don't know what to do Mom. I'm scared Mom. What can I do to make you happy again? Please tell me Mom. Please, please..."
.... There is more of this story ...