Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, Rape, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Incest, Mother, Son, Masturbation, Squirting, Slow,
Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The downfall of a beautiful Japanese wife and mother.
Niomi Hawasawa hummed to herself as she arranged the flowers in the lovely hand blown glass vase. She was pleased with the results of her decorating throughout the small house (one they could better afford) which she, husband Arora and son, Hyota had moved into only months before. The hillside overlooking the village and shoreline below offered a peaceful setting to the small house and garden. Even inside she could smell the ocean and hear the faint breaking of the waves on the beach adding a soothing background which she hadn't realized meant so much until they had relocated from the city.
Lovely of face, delicate of features and diminutive, even for a Japanese, the thirty-nine year old was still strikingly beautiful despite being the mother of a twenty-one year old and now carrying the majority of the family's burdens. She dressed traditionally, in kimono, geta (traditional Japanese shoes) and upswept hair at her husband's request.
Arora, her husband, never a handsome man, was a retired civil servant and in poor health for the last dozen years or so. Despite the difference in their ages (his 62nd birthday was coming up in two months) he had asked Niomi's parents for her hand when she was only eighteen and they had consented. Niomi hadn't wished to marry, but her parents had been persuasive and she, never a daughter to disappoint them, had agreed. Hyota had been born the following year and Niomi had settled into a life of wife and mother with which she had become comfortable over the years. As time had passed and Arora's health had declined their sex life had become non-existent. They had not had sex in over three years. Niomi still yearned for the intimacy and pleasure they had once shared even though it had been seldom and conservative even then. Since she was a virgin when they were married and had remained naive as to sexual matters she had quickly exhausted her limited knowledge as to how to reinvigorate her husband's desires. At last she had given up and, with Arora's prompting, had ceased all efforts to attract him to bed.
Despite her embarrassment, several months ago she had been given a vibrator by a friend in the village and now used it when she could be sure she was completely alone. It served to bring her a certain amount of pleasure, but even when turned to the strongest setting it seldom brought her to orgasm. With both Arora and Hyota away at the moment she contemplated its use but there was something else on her mind, something far more important.
She worried about her son. Hyota had always been headstrong, but his recent relationship with Miori Masuru, a woman older than himself and with a reputation of bleeding men dry and then dumping them, was troubling. Quite unlike his father, Hyota was reasonably good looking and personable. With his choice of many girls to date, Niomi pondered why he had become so enamored of this Miori. He held a job with a small machine shop in the village but, even though he lived with them, most of his modest salary was spent on good times and lately, Miori. Niomi was also concerned that as time passed Hyota seemed to show less and less respect for both Arora and her. He wasn't necessarily insulant and sometimes showed genuine affection, but he was becoming more self centered and sometimes did not show the respect for his parents which he should, especially since meeting Miori.
She finished the arrangement, stood up, rearranged two blossoms, then, satisfied, turned to leave the room.
"Hello, Mother," came Hyota's voice from the doorway.
"Hello, my son, you are home early, are you not?"
"Yes, I took off so I could make a stop and then talk with you. I assume Father is in the village emptying sake glasses."
"You shouldn't talk about your father that way. He worked hard for many years, he is in poor health and..."
"And now he drinks to forget both a meaningless civil servants job and his 'poor health'."
"Hyota, do not speak that way."
"You are right," he grinned. "After all I came here to share some very good news."
"Oh, and what is this good news?"
"I have decided to ask Miori to marry me," he said producing an engagement ring. The setting was small but it was still evident he had spent (or indebted himself) heavily to afford it.
Flabbergasted, Niomi could only manage, "But ... but ... this is all so soon. You hardly know this woman!"
"This woman's name is Miori and it doesn't matter that we've only known each other a few weeks. We are in love and wish to be married."
"But you know nothing about her. Not really!"
"I know enough to know I want her for my wife."
"Hyota, this is foolish. She is so much older than you."
"So? Father was much older than you when you were married."
"But ... that was different."
"Well, your father and I had gone together for over a year. We had truly gotten to know each other."
"Miori and I know each other well enough."
"Do you? Do you really? Are you aware Miori has been married three times?"
"No, I am not."
"How did you find this out?"
"Word gets around the village."
"So you've been spying on Miori -- on us!"
"Not spying, but unlike you I have taken the time to find out a few things."
The revelation had obviously caught him by surprise, yet he persisted. "So you are telling me you don't approve?" he demanded.
"I have been told she marries men, spends every yen they have and then divorces them."
"I won't hear of this. You're lying. You just don't want us to be happy together."
"I want every happiness for you, my son, but this woman is not the way."
"Yes she is! I will hear no more of your lies! I intend to ask Miori to marry me!"
"Hyota, your father and I are in agreement..."
"So! You have brought him into your conspiracy as well!"
"There is no conspiracy. We only want what's best for you."
"Then stay away from us."
"I cannot simply stand by and see you ruin your life."
The rage in him was boiling. He drew back his hand and Niomi actually cowered in fear, afraid he would indeed strike her, but with fire in his eyes, he simply snorted, turned his back to her and walked out.
"You'll be sorry," was all he threw back over his shoulder as he hurried down the path and away from the mother whose heart was aching.