I Am My Son's Mother
by Lostzilla
Few mothers want to let go of their children regardless of whether they are eight or eighteen. My Jimmy is twenty-eight. He had moved out when he was eighteen only to move right back in a year later just after his father died. From then on he always stayed with me and was very protective of me. I honestly believe that we grew closer in the years after he became an adult than we had been in the years before.
I knew that Jimmy was a man and that he had a man's needs. We have an open relationship in which we talked about anything frankly and honestly. We both were masturbating, he in his bedroom and I in mine.
I'm a woman; I had needs too.
When we were not working or sleeping, we were always together. I joked with him that we might as well get married, because I knew that he was a mama's boy and was never going to leave me.
Sometimes at night while I was getting myself off I would think about Jimmy, about the two of us in the same bed doing things that a mother and her son should not do. After I would come I would feel ashamed for having given myself an orgasm while imagining Jimmy and I making love.
We already were touchy-feely with each other in a playful and innocent way. At least I thought that it was innocent. We would hold hands, brush each other's hair, give each other massages, and cuddle up close while we were watching TV.
Jimmy is a strong and handsome man who takes care of his body. Now and then I would catch myself examining him, and this, too, would make me feel ashamed because I would become lubricated in my vagina if I looked at him for too long.
The fantasies would come in spite of myself, in spite of my not wanting them to come.
In reality, I was so emotionally attached to him that I would have let Jimmy do whatever he wanted to me.
Through the years he never tried. Deep down I wanted him to try.
I had just turned forty-seven when he met a young woman and began spending a lot of time with her.
Jimmy and I have always gone out everywhere together. Whether it was to the movies or dinner or to a bar for a few glasses of wine and some dancing, I always felt so much younger when I was with him than I really was.
My late husband had never wanted to go out nor did he enjoy himself when we did; he had preferred to stay home and watch TV. Jimmy was always encouraging me to go out with him, and I would always have a really good time when I did.
Now all of a sudden I was being replaced by another woman. I didn't like it, and when Jimmy would come home from a date with a glow on his face I would feel so jealous. I had hoped that he would break up with this woman after realizing that our relationship meant more to him. Instead, he came home this past Thursday night and told me that he was engaged to be married.
I broke down and cried. I hated myself for having ruined what Jimmy was hoping would be a happy reaction, but I couldn't help being so unhappy. I realized then just how much I loved my son, and that I would do anything to keep from losing him.
That was why, when he asked me what was wrong, I told him the truth.
"Why do you have to leave me? I love you so much! I want us to be together always!"
I spoke sobbingly, but through my tears I could see the surprise on Jimmy's face. I felt so stupid, and yet I still brought my lips to his and kissed him. It surprised me when after several moments he began to kiss me back. Several more moments later we were making out like lovers. By that I mean that our tongues were fully engaged.
I had never wanted to French kiss anyone so much, and I gave myself over to open-mouth kissing with my son as though I was a wanton whore who couldn't stand the tension inside her any longer.
Our bodies and heads moved to the drumbeat of forbidden desire.
When finally Jimmy put his hands on me, I became completely aware of how wet I was. I was very aroused.
"Make love to me," I whispered into his ear.
Right then his fingers went under my dress and inside my panties. When he touched my clit I nearly exploded. I was so tense and so ready to come; it would not have taken much to get me off.
When I felt Jimmy's fingers inside me, I began to rub his cock through his pants. My son was aroused. He wanted me.
I gave his needs priority, unzipping him and pulling out his erection, then rubbing it. He was hung just like his father, and the heavy, thick cock felt simply wonderful in my hand as I gently stroked the sensitive skin of his shaft.
We continued to kiss, pausing only when I felt my son tremble and heard his soft moan, revealing to me that I was just about to make him come.
"I love you, Jimmy," I whispered.
"I love you, mom," he replied hurriedly. "God, I'm coming." His voice dropped to where I could hardly hear him. "I'm coming."
I put my hand in a cupping position in front of Jimmy's raging penis to catch his squirting seed, but he ejaculated so much that most of it fell onto the carpet anyway.
My son was shaking and moaning when he stopped coming, and that made me feel good because I knew I had really satisfied him. I put my arms around him and hugged him tightly.
"I'm so glad I could please you," I whispered.
Jimmy moved his mouth to mine and kissed me. With his fingers he began once more to rub my clit. He had no idea how explosive was my tension.
Then suddenly he dropped to his knees and lifted my dress, then took down my panties. My pussy, thick with hair that covered my groin, was right there in front of his face.
Jimmy's father had gone down on me a lot during the first years of our marriage, but then he stopped as his libido waned.
As I felt my son's tongue on all of the right places, I remembered how heavenly had been the pleasure while my pussy was being eaten. Jimmy knew just where to lick and how to lick it. It was wonderful. I played with his hair and rubbed it while he indulged himself.
We were standing in the kitchen, right next to the table, and that was where I was going to come.
"Oh Jimmy, honey; you're gonna do it. Oh God! I'm gonna come, oh I'm coming!"
I screamed.
How does one describe a mortal body that is experiencing immortal ecstasy? Waves of pleasure surged through me until I was overwhelmed by them.
I slowly sank to my knees in tears. Like Jimmy, I was shaking in the aftermath of bliss there are no words for. And like I had done to him, he got down on the floor with me and held me tight.
"You orgasm so beautifully, like an angel. I love you, mom."
"I love you too, honey; so very much."
Jimmy and I moved eventually to the living room couch and quietly sat holding each other. There were no words to say. The mutual enjoyment of intense pleasure incestuous and lovely restrained our tongues for a time.
And then finally I spoke. "I don't want you to ever be upset about what we just did."
"I won't," he replied.
"Because you know it was very special. Most women don't get to experience their sons so completely, as I just did."
"I know. Can I ask you something?"
"Ask me anything."
"Did that just happen, I mean spontane...