Virgin Son Needs My Help

We were at that point that seems to last forever and yet is over in a millisecond, that point when time stands still, and yet rushes by so fast. That point in time when a cock is about to penetrate me. A new cock is about to enter me for the first time. Surprisingly for a divorced mother of one, only the second cock to ever do that.

The rigid and erect phallus is poised at the entrance to my pussy, gently pushed between my outer lips, probing but not yet fully inserted, time standing still before the final penetration.

That anticipatory moment in time is not just for me, but for any woman or girl, that time of wanting expectation, waiting to be penetrated and filled. Hesitation on the part of the man delaying the inevitable.

My sons’ rock hard, hot, throbbing and I’m glad to say big cock is about to penetrate me for the first time.

As I gazed up into his face I could see all the worry, doubt, fear, concern and guilt wash over his young face, all those emotions caused by what was about to happen. He was about to have sex, commit an incestuous act with his mother, albeit his willing and loving mother. But there was another look there as well, less obvious, hidden in the depths of his eyes, the look of lust and desire, of wanting what is about to happen.

Then with a simple movement of his hips, he slid right into my welcoming sex and became a man.

The feeling for me as he penetrated me was one of delight, his cock slid fully in until it was buried up to his balls.

The look on his face changed instantly as he felt his cock push in, my pussy opening to accommodate him and then immediately close around him to hold him tightly yet softly in my hot, wet, soft and accomplished hole. His eyes went wide in shock and wonder at the delicate feel. Understanding at what had happened a bashful smile of delight washed over his face.

I pulled his head down closer to mine, and in as sexy and seductive a manner as I could whispered in his ear, “Fuck me now.” As I said this, he pulled back then slid into me once more slowly almost hesitating. I pulled my legs up and back wrapping them around his waist, locking him in me, and the muscles in my vaginal canal rippled up the entire length of his cock. He couldn’t cope with the feeling and came in an instant, his cum firing deep into me. Eyes going even wider than before. As did mine.

He collapsed on top of me and started to cry, heart-rending sobs of raw emotion, “Mum! I’m sorry, oh I’m sorry, please forgive me,” he cried out, even as his cum continued to pump out of him and fill me up, his cock twitching with every spurt. My pussy acting instinctively on him, clenching and releasing to match each spurt as I milked him dry.

I switched from seductress and would-be lover to caring mum in an instant, cradling his head, pulling him tight to me, stroking his head and hair, I whispered in his ear again, “Don’t worry sweetheart, it’s nothing to worry about, it happens all the time. It just shows how much you wanted this, how much you needed it. I love you, more than anything in the world. I’m not going to tell anyone you know.” Comforting him in his perceived moment of shame, not of having incestuous sex with his mother, but that he couldn’t control himself and had cum as soon as he entered me. Actually, I found it very endearing and loving.

He had truly been a virgin, even more than I knew ... It had all started a couple of weeks earlier, when at what should be one of the best times of his life, a moment he had been waiting for and dreaming of for years was about to become reality, he was about to join the army, but instead of excitement, I sensed a withdrawal and nervousness about him. At first, I didn’t worry, thinking it was just excitement and nerves but as time went on and he didn’t pick up I knew something was bothering him deeply.

“OK, what’s up, what’s bothering you,” I asked him one night, but he wouldn’t tell me, only saying that it was personal. Not wanting to nag or push him I left it at that, but when things still didn’t change I pressed the subject again.

“Come on, somethings not right, something’s bothering you,” I pressed, sitting him down next to me and making sure he knew he had to tell me what was troubling him. “What is it, are you worried about the army, how it will be? You’ve wanted this since you were so high,” I made a gesture indicating how tall he had been when he had set his mind on following his dad and becoming a soldier.

“No mum, it’s not that ... well it is and it isn’t.”

Silence. I kept looking at him. “Go on?” Then the confession that surprised me, to say the least; no that rocked me and was the beginning of what we were to do erupted from his mouth.

“Mum, it’s personal,” going a little red, not looking at me, then he let it out, “Mum, I’m worried, I don’t want to be made fun of. Mum, I’m still a virgin, I’ve never been with a girl, nothing, never, ever. I don’t want to be an idiot in front of all the other lads.”

That was a confession I wasn’t expecting, anything but that, he’s a good looking lad, tall, strong, and fit, just like his dad was at that age. He was intelligent enough, not rocket scientist brilliant but no “Muppet” either, and popular, with both sexes. I had thought he could have had his pick; would already have had his pick of any of the girls he came into contact with. If he had told me he was gay it wouldn’t have surprised me as much as the fact that he was still a virgin.

I wasn’t going to push anything on that subject, as he had said it is personal, but instinctively I knew I needed to do something about it. I comforted him by saying, “Oh, OK, not what I expected, but sweetheart, it’s no big deal it will happen sooner or later, don’t worry about it. Though I am a bit surprised, I thought that would have happened a while ago, and you’re right it is personal, I’m not going to pry anymore, but if you want to talk to me, or your dad, you know what to do. But don’t worry, it’s not such a big deal, even if you think it is.”

“Thanks mum.”

I was troubled about his confession, not that he was still a virgin but the effect it was having on him, so went to have a chat with his dad.

His dad and I had been childhood sweethearts, falling in love at twelve, getting engaged at sixteen, and married on my eighteenth birthday, the day both his father and I gave our virginities to each other, both having sworn to hold ourselves for each other until we were married.

His dad had fulfilled his own dream and joined the army and we had a pretty good life together at the start of our marriage but held off on having kids until a bit later on. I was twenty-two when I found out I was pregnant and twenty-three at the time of the birth.

His dad had just decided he was not going to continue in the army and we made a nice life together in civvy street. But somehow we drifted apart, eventually both realising that our marriage was over we decided to split. The divorce was as friendly and amicable as it could be; if any can. No blame was attached and I readily agreed to joint custody. But his dad said he thought it better that I have full custody but he had full visiting and parental rights, to which I willingly agreed. I wanted what was best for my son, and that was the full involvement of his dad in his upbringing.

Due to this we have kept in touch and are now good friends, we’ve just come to the understanding that our early love was too great and burned out too fast.

I went around and had a chat with his dad.

Having heard the situation his dad said, “Not a lot we can do is there, he needs to make the move. I’m more than a bit surprised as I thought he had the hots for that cute little Helen not so long ago.”

“So did I and he still has, he’s just not acted on them. There’s got to be something we can do. I don’t want him like this, and I think it will affect him in the army, you know what the lads can be like, how cruel, vicious even.”

“And if he’s not on the top of his game, he’ll struggle and he’s better than that, N.C.O. potential, and I should know about that.”

After a short pause, “Well, I suppose I can always take him to a professional, pay to get him laid. There are lots of options, and a lot of the girls are very nice looking, I could get him the full GFE. There’s a couple of really nice places nearby.”

“GFE?”

“Girl Friend Experience, the girl acts like a girlfriend during the time he’s with her, lots of kisses, and cuddles, before and after. As a virgin, I bet he could get a discount?” He laughed at the last sentence, and that’s what made me mad.

“Are you suggesting that my son goes to a brothel. MY SON IS NOT, AND I REPEAT NOT, LOSING HIS VIRGINITY TO A CHEAP WHORE,” I shouted at my ex-husband, face going puce with anger.

“I’m not talking about a cheap one, I’ll pay for the best.”

That only wound me up even more. This was a serious matter and here was my ex jokingly suggesting that he take my son to a brothel. Eventually, I calmed down as I realised that he was half-joking with me, but he had a point, what else was there to do, I was about to agree when he said, “What about one of your friends, or his mates’ mums, any of them have any cougar tendencies. Why not get one of them to seduce him.”

“I’m not going to any of my friends and say, ‘Will you seduce my son, will you fuck him, he’s a virgin and needs to get it on with someone.’ Are you crazy,” I replied.

“OK, I’m just trying to come up with ideas.” A short silence then “There is another way, but it’s a bit out there, and I’m sure you’ll like this even less than the other suggestions.”

“Go on, what.”

“You.”

“What? What do you mean, me?” the idea of what he meant still not sinking in at first.

“You look after him, you teach him what to do.”

“You have got to be fucking joking! That’s incest.” I managed to say before slapping him hard across the face.

“I told you it was a bit out there. I know what it is, and I’m not happy about the idea either, but it is an option, and the only one I can see if you won’t let him go to a brothel, or get your friends involved. At least you would be in control and could teach him. And it’s not that unusual, it happens more often than you think.”

“Maybe in some backwoods country or isolated places in Europe, but not in Britain. I can’t believe you’ve suggested that I have sex with my son, our son, encouraged me to have sex with my son. And thanks for putting the blame on me for not letting you take him to a brothel.”

“Honey, just think about it, I only suggested it as an alternative. Look I’m not happy about it, but I think I could get over it, accept it. You would be in control, it would be safe, you could teach him, isn’t that what a mother does. Look it’s just an idea, I’m sorry I mentioned it now.”

“You can accept it? What the fuck does that mean, I’d be the one that would be having sex with my son, fucking my son, getting penetrated by my son. You do understand what that means, or are you stupid? It’s got nothing to do with you accepting it.

“What if he was appalled by the idea, he doesn’t seem to be able to get it on with a girl, it could ruin our relationship together. What if ... what if he thought I was unattractive, what if he didn’t fancy me.”

“Honey, the last bit is so off the mark, he will definitely fancy you, you’re still gorgeous, attractive and sexy as hell. Not only that, Helen looks so like you, she could be your younger sister. Seems like you’re his type. Maybe he’s got an Oedipus complex.”

That earned my ex another slap across the face and again he deserved it. Our relationship was strained like never before, even when we were going through the divorce. We left it there, a coldness like now between us. No agreement on my part to take such a big step, to effectively seduce my son, to enter into an incestuous relationship and cross a moral boundary, to commit a taboo act.

To fuck my son!

The idea kept churning in my mind for the next few days, causing me anguish as I wavered one way then the other. Sometimes I had come to accept the idea, others I shied away in horror. The physical act didn’t seem to worry me, hell I’m no stranger to sex, albeit with a single partner, and my son was good enough looking, tall, strong, body just beginning to fill out. Dispassionately, from a physical point of view, I was ready to have sex with him, eager even and the idea of teaching him was more than appealing if it had been any other guy of his age, one of his mates say it would have happened by now.

But there was that invisible, emotional barrier to cross. That great taboo of incest. There is a moral code that binds society together, and incest to my mind was one of the mainstays of that code, that never, in any way, should be broken, a step too extreme to contemplate, and yet!!!

As a mother I had a duty to do the best I could for my son, I would protect and fight for him in any way I could, educate him, nurture him, prepare him for the world. So if he needed help in sex, why shouldn’t I break that taboo, cross that so-called moral line, and give him what he needed most in his life at this time.

I knew that I didn’t totally repulse him physically as I had caught him stealing glances at my body when we were at the gym swimming pool and occasionally when we were at home and I was dressed casually in shorts and T-shirt, and I had noticed he got excited but tried so hard to hide the evidence. As his dad had said, Helen did look a lot like me. I phoned my ex and not wasting time on preliminaries blurted out, “Are you sure you’re OK with me and Simon? Please tell me you’re happy about it. I can’t go through with it if you would think me depraved if it would change our relationship. I’m putting so much at risk with Simon as it is.”

“Are you going to do it?”

“I think so, I’m not keen but it’s got to be done.”

“Well love, I’m not ecstatic, I can’t say I am, but I agree that it is something that you should do, and only you can do it. If you want some reassurance I think it’s the right thing to do, and I’m OK with you doing it. And I love you even more for it, you’re the best mum he could ever have.”

“Thanks, but what I am worried about is if the idea disgusts him, turns him from me. If it goes wrong, you have to talk to him, tell him it was your idea, I don’t want to ruin my relationship with him.”

“OK, that’s only fair, but he won’t, I promise you he won’t, he’ll love you even more. You would be giving so much to him and he will know it. Don’t forget he’s my son as well, and I know him just as much as you do.”

Having made up my mind at last, and even then not until after more considerable soul searching and large amounts of doubt giving me sleepless nights and trouble-torn days, it was taking over my life, I still prevaricated. The idea of incest with my son at times both horrifying and exciting me in equal amounts. The sheer taboo of the act was counter measured by the idea that I would be nurturing and helping him, guiding him to manhood, as a mother should. But also I shocked and frightened myself by admitting I was getting turned on by the idea, the illicit nature of it. I couldn’t help myself, I was going to do it.

And even if I didn’t get turned on by it, was left cold, I would have one hell of a fake orgasm for him, Meg Ryan in “When Harry Met Sally” would have nothing on me.

Having committed myself to the idea, I decided on a day, Friday. I finished work at lunchtime, giving myself plenty of time to get ready and look my best for him. If he was going to have sex with his mum then she was going to be the best looking and sexiest mum she could be.

I put clean sheets on the bed and as I smoothed them out a wicked thought flashed through my mind, hopefully, tomorrow I would be stripping these same sheets off the bed, but by then they would be sweaty and stained. When I was happy my bedroom was ready I turned to my own body.

I had a long hot shower, cleaning everywhere with attention, trimmed and fluffed up my pubic hair, I had contemplated going fully shaven but couldn’t bring myself to go that far, then moisturised my entire body and placed a few dabs of perfume in strategic places, behind my ears, in my cleavage, and down to my navel, but no lower, anywhere lower was going to be natural. He needed to learn the smells and tastes of a woman in all their glory.

I dressed in a simple sheath dress of lime green silk that emphasised the contours of my body without seeming to cling, but it shimmied and swayed as I moved, it was cut just above the knee a little long for me, but I was looking for sexy class, not wanton slut, that would come in the bedroom once the dress was off!!!

Underneath I was totally naked, no bra or panties, I sometimes go without a bra as my tits are still firm and pert enough to be able to stand on their own, but I have never gone panty-less before, it made me feel sexy and depraved and surprisingly gave me confidence. Just a hint of eyeliner and eye-shadow to emphasise my deep green eyes, blonde hair hanging free in soft waves down to my shoulders.

When my son arrived home he took one look at me and went, “Wow, mum you look stunning, gorgeous and sexy, going out, got a hot date at last? Who’s the lucky man?” The latter was said without malice as he had been going on at me to start dating and had even hinted that at least one of his friends had said that they fancied me. That had given me courage that he might not find me too repulsive.

“Yes and no,” I replied, “hot date yes, going out no.” I smiled at him as I moved closer to him, quickly closing the distance between us. He looked confused, especially when I kept moving to him until I was stood directly in front of him, virtually crushing up to him. I smiled and said, “You are my hot date. Tonight you are going to become a man.” The last whispered into his ear, which I nibbled and blew into as I finished speaking.

He was like a rabbit caught in the headlights, transfixed, unable to move. Wanting to keep him that way and not let him break the mood and run away, I could never have got over the rejection if he had, I acted quickly. I took hold of his hand and pressed it onto my breast, the nipple hardening instantly, and he must have been aware of it, as his finger started to brush it softly.

“Mum, what are you doing, you can’t mean that?”

“I can and do.”

“But that’s in ... incest. We can’t, mum you know that it’s wrong.”

“It’s not as wrong as you think, it happens more than you think.”

“Mum, we can’t, what if anyone found out, what if dad found out? I mean you’re gorgeous and sexy, but we just can’t. Can we?” Doubt and fear in his voice, but an undercurrent of desire and longing there as well. His breathing had suddenly become shallower.

“No one will find out, and your dad already knows what I intend to do, in fact, he sort of suggested it. And I love you, this is for you no one else, this is all for you.”

That seemed to stop his objections for a while and I noticed he hadn’t taken his hand off my breast and was caressing it more forcibly now. Subtly I moved a little closer to him, closing the gap.

“Look after our little talk a while ago, I had a chat with your dad, he suggested that he take you to a club and get you “initiated.” There is no way I was going to let that happen, not for your first time. So your dad said I should consider getting involved myself.

“He did what!”

“One part of a mothers role is to educate and prepare her children, so what else could I do. You’re a good looking guy, that part is not going to be hard for me, the mother-son thing is, but I’ve made up my mind, and I can’t think of anything more loving a mum can do than to help her son into manhood. And above all else, I love you as my son. The rest is just physical, just sex.”

As I said all this I was looking at him directly and deeply in the eyes. I could see the confusion there, wanting, but doubt. I casually dropped my hand and stroked the front of his jeans, he was obviously interested, his cock was hard and as far as I could tell at that time, he wasn’t lacking in equipment to please a woman.

Giving him no more time to think, and, to stop myself from backing out and running away in shame I stood back, reached behind me took hold of the zipper on my dress and pulled it down. I raised my arms and the dress slipped down my body in a soft silken slither, pooling in a delicate pile at my feet. I stood naked and proud before him, boobs holding firm, nipples hard and pointing, hips wide and flaring, pussy hidden, but tantalisingly almost on show. His eyes were unashamedly wandering over my body, taking in every curve and hollow, gaze drifting down to my legs to my toes, then up to my pussy, staring at it for a long time, and with a growing lust in his gaze, then up to my boobs, then repeating the process, time and time again. Gulping in deep breaths as his excitement clearly grew.

I was shivering in shame but held myself still, letting him feast his eyes on me. I reached my hand down and pushed two fingers into my pussy opening it for him to see better. At last, his eyes found my face, “Wow! Mum, you look ... wow. Are you really going to ... to let me ... to do it with me.” He was that shocked he could hardly string two words together. I just nodded took hold of his hand and led him up the stairs to my bedroom, well aware that he was behind me, looking up my legs and into my pussy as it moved before him, conscious that he would see that it was wet and ready.

Turning to him I said, “This is your chance, you can ask for anything, anywhere from me tonight, anything you want to do, anything you want to try, I will refuse you nothing.” ... So he’d cum early, way too early and now we had to deal with it. I continued to caress his head, whispering soothing words into his ear, all nonsense, of course, just things to set his mind at rest. All the time I was aware that his body, his young, fit, strong, naked body, was lying half on top of me. His legs were either side of one of mine and I was aware that his cock was pressed onto my thigh and that it was showing signs of recovery.