Chapter 5

DAY 05

STEPHANIE AND MICHAEL: CHAPTER 2

Stephanie had to be at work by three that afternoon. Her shift this Saturday would last until midnight. But, according to her statements, she couldn’t keep her mind on her work. So excited about the thing she had done with her son, she relived both incidents. All afternoon and part of the evening, Stephanie had consistently served the wrong drinks to customers, and when the complaints became so numerous her boss had to speak to her about it, she told him she was ill and should be home in bed. It was eight o’clock when she was relieved by a part-time waitress.

“When I entered the apartment, my son looked up, asking why I was home from work so early. This was the first he had spoken to me since the afternoon before. I was so happy he had said something at last. I went to him and dropped to my knees before him, hugging him about the waist as I pressed my face into his chest. I felt him hesitate for just a moment, then his arms came around my neck and hugged me back.

I pulled away from him and looked up into his face, telling him I couldn’t keep my mind on work, that I had to be with him at least for this one night. I told him I wasn’t at all sorry about what we had done, that I loved him very much and I didn’t care if it was wrong or not. I tried to explain how much I loved him and wanted to make him happy, but I’m not very good with emotional words. I had tears in my eyes as I told him of these things, and even my son became misty-eyed. He petted the top of my head and smiled at me. I knew, in that moment, that everything was going to be all right between us. Maybe he didn’t understand my words very well, but he understood the expression in my eyes and on my face.

I sat back on my heels and smiled up at my son, brushing my hands past his hips and over his thighs down to his knees. He watched my hands, and a slight flush started on his face. I saw his reaction and removed my hands from his knees. But my son suddenly smiled, telling me it was all right. Grinning happily, I placed my hands back on his thighs, moving them about half way to his crotch. I let my fingers stop there, watching him closely. Then, inching my fingers between his thighs and closer yet toward his genitals, I felt him open his legs to give the freedom I needed. I shoved one hand up between his legs and cupped his genitals tenderly. I felt him respond with an immediate erection. My fingers fumbled with the zipper on his fly and when I had it open, I shoved my fingers into it and brought his penis forth. When I wrapped my fingers about his organ and started masturbate him, Michael shoved his hips forward in the chair and sprawled with his legs wide apart.

Not being satisfied to have just his penis sticking out like that, I unsnapped his pants, and when I started pulling them down, Michael lifted his bottom so I could remove them along with his shorts. He removed his shirt himself, and now he was sitting there in all his glorious nakedness before me. His testicles hung between his thighs, and his penis jutted up in the air like a powerful instrument of sheer pleasure. The foreskin was pulled way back and the smooth head glistened moistly in the light.

I reached for his penis again, but my son then asked me if I would remove my clothing so he could see me naked, too. I told him that of course I would do so. I reminded him that all I was concerned about was his total happiness, and that if seeing me naked made him happy, then naked I would get. I stood up and removed my clothing. When I was in my bra and panties, my son stood up, asking if he could remove those two garments. I was delighted that he was taking an interest in what we were doing and was no longer embarrassed. I turned my back to him and allowed my son to unhook my bra. Holding the cups over my breasts, I turned to face him again. His eyes were shining brightly and staring directly at my breasts. I smiled, then let the cups fall away. Michael’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed at my naked breasts, then he hesitantly reached both hands out to fondle them. I whispered for him to go ahead, and he cupped each mound in his hands and squeezed with his fingers. I had to tell him to pinch my nipples, but to do so gently. Michael didn’t know anything at all about a girl, and I was proud to be his teacher.

My son played with my breasts for a while, both of us standing there in the middle of the floor. I could feel his penis pressing at my pelvis, and I reached for him and masturbated him gently while he became acquainted with my breasts.

After a while, Michael dropped to his knees in front of me. His hands moved over my hips and down the outside of my thighs, then back up again. He gazed into my pelvis as his hands slipped into the elastic waist of my panties and slowly began to pull them down. He savored this first look at my genitals, and removed my panties slowly. When he had the hair of my pelvis exposed, he stopped for a moment, my panties about my hips as he gazed at me there. I caressed the top of my son’s head, telling him to go on, to take my panties all the way off.

As Michael pulled them down to my feet, I lifted first one, then the other so he could remove the nylon cloth. Now, I stood before my son naked for the very first time in my life. I found the experience exhilarating and my heart was pounding hard against my ribs. As my son knelt there, looking at my pubic hair, I parted my legs for him, and he gasped again. He glanced up at me, his tongue licking over his lips. I could see the question in his eyes and I nodded my head.

Michael reached his right hand out and brushed his fingers through my pubic hair, hardly touching me as if I were some fragile piece of china he was afraid of breaking. I leaned over a little and watched his hand move through my hair and between my legs, then he was touching my vaginal lips ever so lightly. Wanting him to insert his finger into me, I reached both my hands down there and pulled the lips wide apart, and bluntly told him to stick his finger inside me.

My son hesitated only for a moment, then slipped his forefinger between the lips of my vagina and shoved it in as deeply as he could. I shuddered with the unfamiliar, yet recognizable sensation of feeling something inside me after all these years. I must have passed my feelings to my son, because then he started stroking his finger in and out of me instinctively. I shoved my pelvis forward and opened my legs wider yet for him, until I was standing there straddled wide open, my knees bent just a little.

Michael leaned down with his face turned upward, watching the way his finger slipped in and out of my vagina. Finally, I could stand this no longer. It was sheer torment to me, and I wanted much more than just his finger working in and out of me. I suddenly wanted my son to be on top of me with his penis thrusting back and forth in my vagina!

I told him to stand up, and when he did, I took hold of his hand—the one that had been inside me down there—and led him straight to my bedroom. Once there, I lay down on my back and spread my legs wide apart. For a moment my son just stood there, looking down at me with his penis swaying back and forth in full hardness. I told him what I wanted and pulled at him until I had him between my thighs. I reached down between us and took hold of his organ and guided it to my vagina, and I almost fainted with the extreme pleasure that flooded through me when his penis entered my body.

As I said, Michael didn’t really know what to do, but when I started working my hips up and down on the bed, sliding his penis in and out of my vagina, he understood quickly enough. He lay down on my naked breasts and wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him to me tightly and then we were both humping up and down together. I could hear my son moaning and whimpering about how good it felt to him, and I told him it was just as good for me, too. But when he felt himself on the verge of ejaculation, he started to withdraw. I grabbed him tightly by his buttocks and pulled him down hard into my crotch, telling him in an excited voice to come inside of me. I hardly got the words out of my mouth when I felt him jerk and then spurt the white stuff into me. When I felt his semen enter me, I convulsed into the most delicious orgasm I could ever remember having.

After he had come inside of me, my son slumped down on me heavily, too tired to move away. While he lay there panting and gasping, I caressed his naked back with my fingers, kneading his buttocks until he was ready to pull his organ from me. He lay back on the bed while I went to the bathroom and got a damp cloth, which I used to wash his genitals and then myself.

Michael was very interested in watching me wash my vagina, so I spread my thighs wide so he could observe what I did. Then I took him into the bathroom with me.”

After the above interview, there was a death in Stephanie’s family, and although she was estranged from them, she was requested to return to Kansas for the funeral and will which was to be probated shortly thereafter.

Afraid I would be unable to get the rest of her incestuous confession, I took a chance and asked her if she would be kind enough to write down the remainder and send it to me via e - mail. She agreed to do this, and before two weeks were over, I received the e - mail with the rest of her story.

Reading the numerous pages over, I was amazed at her manner of writing as compared to her speech. Stephanie, during our interviews, seldom used one four-letter word when referring to the genitals, but in her written portion, the words abounded as though she was receiving some sort of a sexual thrill by writing them down on paper for my reading.

I have gleaned the most informative portions of her confession, omitting many insignificant details that would be unuseful here.

After I cleaned my son up, I allowed him to come into the bathroom.

I asked him if he knew what his peter looked like when he was fucking me, and he said he didn’t.

“How could I, Mother ... I’ve only did it to you once.”

“Then, my darling young man,” I told him, “we shall rectify that lack of knowledge immediately.”

I used a towel to dry my thighs and cunt off, then I took my son’s hand and pulled him back to the bedroom. I placed him on his back across my bed and sat down beside him, taking his cock in my hand and working it up and down until he was nice and firm once again.

“You have the most beautiful hardon I’ve ever seen on a man, son,” I told him. “And you screwed your mother better than anyone else has ever done. Therefore, you get a nice reward. You just lay back there and enjoy yourself. I’m going to get on top of you and fuck you!” Michael’s eyes opened up wide at my use of the word, but I tickled his balls and told him that was exactly what I was going to do to him, fuck him.

Lifting myself to my knees, I swung one leg over his thighs until I was straddling him. I sat down on his thighs for a while, keeping my hand working up and down his prick. My tits were flopping and swinging around and my son couldn’t believe what was happening to him, but he was delighted just the same.

With my naked ass down on his thighs, my pussy, naturally, was exposed to him, too. He looked down there at me, placing both his hands on my knees while I jerked him.