Detective Mom
Copyright© 2025 by danbaifen
Chapter 7
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 7 - One day I couldn't help it anymore, so I installed pinhole cameras in the bathroom and laundry room. I put my stockings and underwear that I had worn for a day into the laundry basket, and then waited to see the results. I saw my son walk in, lock the door, open the laundry basket, take out my stockings, put his feet on his mouth and nose, and breathe hard.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Incest Mother Son Anal Sex
“Abigail?”
Hannah was calling me, but my consciousness was still stuck in twenty years ago, when we were walking on the path home. The rain was light and the sun was shining brightly. We didn’t hold umbrellas and walked through the tree-lined avenue covered with tender spring leaves.
“Abigail?”
Later, the rain got heavier, so we ran and hid downstairs of their house again, looking at the sun that was still so dazzling despite the mist and rain. Then the sun that day merged with the sun now, sweeping across the windshield together with the shadow of the trees.
“Miss Abigail!”
“Hannah!”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“No ... no, I’m driving.”
“Is it convenient now?”
“Go ahead.”
Hannah ‘s voice came through the car’s speakers, a little muffled, and she said,” Did Raymond implant anti-hypnosis information in you?”
“He showed me a painting.” Everything in the studio flashed through my mind quickly, the strange painting, the paintings of the women, the light and shadows, the scent, and everything he did to me.
My crotch was empty and my panties were left there.
My breathing quickened again.
Hannah said on the phone: “Where are you? I want to see you right now.”
“I’m fine. I’ll come to your office tonight.” My heart was beating fast. While talking to Hannah, my mind was full of the feeling of kissing Raymond and being hugged by him.
“No, I want to see you now.”
“I’ll go see you.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for you. Don’t do anything, just come to my house right now.”
I didn’t follow her instructions. I went home first and rinsed my body with hot water to wash off the dried vaginal fluid and saliva on my lower body. Then I changed my clothes and put on makeup to erase all traces of my intimacy with Raymond. Then I went to Hannah’s house.
She was very anxious, which made me regret not seeing her sooner.
She had me lie on a recliner and hypnotized me in the most traditional way, including playing music, releasing aromatherapy, talking to me, and then shaking a crystal ball that flickered with strange light in front of my eyes.
But I stayed awake.
She was very flustered and couldn’t calm down, so I tried to comfort her. We kept trying, from the recliner to the sofa, and then to her bed, but she still couldn’t hypnotize me.
We finally opened a bottle of red wine and drank it while sitting on the bed.
I asked her, “Is it because Raymond ‘s anti-hypnosis information worked?”
Hannah shook her head: “It’s because of me. I’m scared.”
“Afraid of losing me?”
She looked at me and nodded. She was very beautiful, just like her mother, but her figure was more like her father’s, tall and slender.
Because of the pain she had suffered over the past twenty years, her expression always showed a kind of coldness that kept people at a distance, which was nothing like when she was 15 years old.
“Shall we run away?” she said.
“Why do you say that suddenly?”
“I feel like I can’t bear it anymore lately.”
I waited for her to continue. She hesitated for a long time and then said, “I have a feeling that he is going to do it. I have a premonition, just like before my father died 20 years ago. I feel that something bad is going to happen. I am very scared. I thought I had been waiting for this day. After all, I have been preparing for this day for half my life. But no, I am just avoiding and protecting myself. I am afraid of him. I want to avoid him forever, but he will not let me escape anymore.”
I took the wine glass from her hand, put it on the bedside table, then gently stroked her hair to calm her down.
She was still wearing the professional suit she usually wore to class: a black suit, a white silk shirt, black trousers, and silk stockings under her trousers. Her long hair, which had been tied up in a bun, was let down, dark and soft, framing her snow-white face.
I unbuttoned her suit and took it off, then climbed onto the bed and held her gently.
She asked me, “Sister, have you ever done it with Brian?”
“He told you?”
“I hypnotized him. I was afraid he might be implicated, so I checked his subconscious.”
Admitting all this was not as embarrassing as I had expected.
She asked me, “Is it because of loneliness?”
“Loneliness is indeed my excuse. I am not a good mother.”
“What are you going to do?”
“End this dysfunctional relationship.”
“Does Brian know?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll find a chance to tell him.”
“He’ll be miserable. He loves you.”
“A son should love his mother.”
“No, he really loves you.” She turned her head and looked at me, her eyes glistening.
“He doesn’t love me, he’s just impulsive. Adolescent boys want a woman’s body and want to experience sex, so they mistakenly regard me as a sex object.”
“You’re denying his feelings, but you don’t even understand them.”
“Don’t talk about that.”
“Can you love me?”
“I loved you.”
“Sister, I’m scared.”
“It’ll be alright.”
“I’m afraid that I will die without being loved.” She looked at me with a pleading expression on her face. She said, “I have never been in a relationship, never ... had sex with anyone. I have only been sexually assaulted, but I don’t even have any memory of that time. I am very scared that my life may be like this, and I will die like this, never being loved by anyone.”
“I love you.”
“No. I’ve never been loved.”
She was trembling, her eyes were crystal clear, and her beautiful face was flushed and frightened at the same time. She wanted to say something but stopped herself and bit her lower lip.
I hugged her and held her tight, I knew what she wanted, she wanted more than just a hug.
I kissed her shoulder and my hand moved to her thigh and she suddenly started shaking violently and couldn’t stop.
I asked her, “Can I love you just once?”
“Hmm.” Her voice had lost its strength and she let out a trembling gasp.
I continued to caress her thighs and kiss her neck, my left arm holding her body that was about to fall at any moment, and my right hand sliding between her legs, rubbing her inner thighs to make her genitals engorged with blood.
She touched my arm fearfully, turned around and asked me for a kiss.
I kissed her on the mouth as gently as I could and asked her, “Are you okay?”
“It’s so wonderful...” She panted quickly: “Is this what kissing feels like...”
I caressed her beautiful face and gazed into her passionate eyes. I kissed her lips again and whispered, “Try to suck it.”
She sucked me and I responded, our lips rubbing and squeezing, feeling the softness of each other’s lips. She eagerly stuck out her tongue, and I opened my mouth to accept her, letting her lick my mouth and sticking out my tongue to entangle with hers.
In a sense, this was her first kiss. I could feel her excitement and happiness experiencing her first kiss. She kissed me with her tongue without any skill and hugged my neck with gratitude.
“Thank you...”
She rubbed her face against mine, kissed my ears, looked at me passionately, and kissed my nose, cheeks, and corners of my mouth.
“Thank you, thank you, Abigail ... thank you...”
She didn’t dare to go any further, begging humbly, as if she was afraid of losing me. She made me feel distressed, so I hugged her from the front, pressed her breasts with my breasts, reached under her, slid into her crotch, and let her experience the feeling of having her genitals caressed for the first time in her life.
“Ah~...”
I held her in my hand, her labia in my hand, she was wet and hot. I pressed her, rubbed her, and pressed my fingers against her perineum. I kissed her neck, smelled her soft fragrance, and rubbed my mouth and nose against her sensitive neck.
“Ah~~”
She was so comfortable that she didn’t move. I pushed her down on the bed. She lay on her side. I leaned over from behind and kissed her neck. My hands touched her thighs, then her buttocks, and reached into her crotch from the crack to rub it.
She turned over and lay on her back on the bed, opening her delicate lips. I knew she wanted me to kiss her again, so I leaned over and kissed her with my tongue. This time she responded very fiercely, sticking her tongue into my mouth and trying to suck my saliva frantically. I spit saliva on her, watching her drink it hungrily, and then licked her lips with my tongue. She closed her eyes and felt my lips being licked, and screamed.
I realized that she had no strength left, so I knelt down, unbuttoned her pants, unzipped her fly, and pulled her trousers off.
She was wearing a pair of black pantyhose under her trousers. The stockings were thin, and her fair skin could be vaguely seen. I leaned over and kissed her vagina. Her vagina smelled fragrant, like a young girl. I grabbed her ankles. Her feet wrapped in black stockings looked like handicrafts carved from black jade. The arch of her foot was taut and high, full of power.
I couldn’t help myself and kissed her feet. The smell of jasmine on her feet, along with the smell of sweat and body, made me feel very comfortable. I put her toes in my mouth and sucked and licked them. She looked at me with her eyes wide open, and her hands were frantically masturbating under her crotch.
Has she been masturbating like this for the past 20 years? It makes me uncomfortable to think so. I know what loneliness feels like, but how lonely must she be? Lonely to the point of numbness? Or crying every night?
I threw myself on her, hugged her tightly, and we kissed passionately, our four legs wrapped in stockings entangled and rubbed together. She cried faintly, holding back her screams of pleasure while shedding tears. I wanted to make her feel comfortable and to heal her wounds with tenderness.
I took off my coat and tank top, unhooked her hip skirt and took them off together, I took off her shirt, revealing her black bra and white skin, I kissed her, licked her, and caressed her naked skin madly. Her screams changed from pleasure to discomfort, and her hands kept reaching down and into her crotch to masturbate.
“I’ll do it for you.” I said, pulling her hands away and masturbating her with my own hands. Her hands also reached into my crotch and fondled me clumsily.
Our faces pressed together, our mouths opened to gasp, we pressed mouth to mouth, breathing each other’s breath.
Saliva kept flowing down and into her mouth. The frequency of our hands masturbating between each other’s crotch gradually became consistent. It was like we were communicating in this way. When she became faster, I would be faster too. When she became gentle, I would be gentle to her too.
Then we didn’t stop and continued to rub each other’s crotch, and she said, “I can’t take it anymore.”
I told her,” I ‘m about to cum too.”
“Orgasm ... want to...”
“Go ... orgasm, ... go ... I ‘ll give you ... orgasm”
We increased the speed of rubbing, and the pleasure accumulated wildly in our lower bodies. I screamed out loud, and she also screamed with me, with our mouths still pressed together.
Then she suddenly orgasmed, let out a scream, and her body thrust up wildly!
I grabbed her vagina with my hands, holding, pressing and rubbing it. She showed an extremely painful expression, tears streaming down her face, and her lower body squirted wildly. The squirting fluid was blocked by her panties and stockings, and spread and penetrated the crotch of her pantyhose.
“Ah - ... Ah! -Ah...” Her screams were intermittent, and her body kept shaking as if it would never stop. I covered her vagina to let the afterglow of her orgasm slowly dissipate. She gradually calmed down, and lay on the bed, gasping and motionless.
I took my hand back and lay on top of her, breathing with her. I hadn’t climaxed yet, but I wasn’t in a hurry. I waited for her to come to her senses, then I lay on top of her and kissed her with my tongue.
We kissed and took off our clothes, and finally we were naked, then we hugged each other tightly, our bodies entangled and rubbed against each other. Our hands caressed each other’s bodies, we kissed deeply, exchanged saliva, and licked each other’s tongues tightly.
We did this for a long time. She felt so comfortable that she forgot everything. Her face was weak and she kissed me all over with a blushing face.
She sucked my nipples, caressed my thighs, put my toes in her mouth and tasted them one by one, then she gave me a blowjob, kissing, licking and sucking without any skill, holding my clitoris in her mouth and sucking it again and again, and sucking me to orgasm twice in a row.
I inserted my fingers into her vagina, which had not been used by a man for many years and was tight. I found her G-spot and pressed it for her, and she ejaculated continuously. I kept my hands moving until she had an orgasm with squirting.
Then we lay on the bed, hugged each other, and used our fingers to penetrate each other’s vagina. We kissed and did it, letting each other stay on the edge of orgasm for a long time. She was too impatient sometimes, so I asked her to stop at the right time. We kept our fingers in each other’s vagina but did not move, and only kissed each other tenderly.
In the end, we were both so horny that we increased the frequency of rubbing each other’s private parts until we climaxed together and ejaculated in each other’s hands.
We did it from afternoon to dusk, and then until nightfall, but we still couldn’t stop. When we couldn’t do it anymore, it was already nine o’clock in the evening. She and I lay side by side on the bed, fingers intertwined, our lower bodies were a mess, the sheets were covered with our body fluids, in puddles, and my butt was soaked. The smell of debauchery filled the whole room.
“Abigail.”
“Um.”
“It doesn’t matter if I die this time.”
“You won’t die, we will survive.”
I turned my head to look at her, we held hands and fell asleep unknowingly.
The dream came quickly. In it I was floating, hanging in mid-air and looking at myself. The man walked into the bedroom and looked down at me and Hannah, who were naked on the bed.
His hands touched me, rubbing and sliding vigorously, he grabbed my breasts and kneaded them, sucked my nipples, spread my legs and was about to insert them. I struggled, and he grabbed my neck roughly and pressed me to the bed.
I had difficulty breathing and tried to push him away, but his manly strength was beyond my reach. He penetrated me savagely and fucked me hard, while strangling my neck and using his other hand to roughly squeeze my breasts.
Although I clearly didn’t want it, my crotch felt incredibly comfortable. The rejection of my soul was accompanied by the pleasure of my body. This was the feeling of being raped.
My perspective returned to my body, looking up at the man who raped me. I succumbed to his violence and passively endured the crazy pleasure he brought me. I desperately turned my head to look at Hannah, who was being raped by another man, enduring his thrusting and passionate kissing.
They were so strong that we couldn’t get up.
I suddenly thought, this is the only way, what else can I do besides enjoying myself?
Once I lost my mental resistance, the pleasure eroded my will. I was so excited that he leaned down to kiss me, and I opened my mouth to respond to him.
His tongue greedily felt everything in my mouth and stirred roughly in my mouth. The movement was so brutal, but it made me feel a hundred times more comfortable than when I kissed Hannah.
I tried my best to cater to him, and my hips moved to match his thrusts. Hannah was also rolling around under another man, and her enchanting moans were not comparable to those when she made love with me.
I twisted my body and hugged the man’s strong body. I tilted my head up and let him kiss and lick my neck. I hugged him with my legs, rubbed him, kissed him fiercely, and kept drinking his saliva. I was drunk and obsessed with lust. My brain stopped thinking and I knew nothing except comfort.
It was so wonderful, I felt like I was merged into one with him, in perfect harmony, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the humiliating rape, screaming uncontrollably.
He increased his speed and violated me vigorously. The excessive pleasure rushed into my brain, making me feel so comfortable that I wanted to die. I grabbed the bed sheet and screamed with high frequency as he thrusted in and out. I felt like I was flying down there. The huge sexual pleasure was released from my lower body to my whole body. I twitched wildly, my vagina tightened desperately, and I screamed.
When I woke up, Hannah was still lying next to me. She was also fucked into a mess, her body covered in crystal sweat, and a few wet strands of hair stuck to her face.
I didn’t know if this was a dream or not. I was in a daze and heard two men saying they were going to fuck us to death.
Like Emily and Olivia? Are Hannah and I going to be fucked to death?
She looked at me helplessly, I held her hand, and the man had already inserted his finger into my vagina. The fear of death and sexual pleasure burst out at the same time, and the two men fucked us together. We climaxed continuously, the frequency was so fast that we could not distinguish the last time from the next.
We intertwined our fingers tightly, screamed helplessly, and passively endured the excessive pleasure that surged over us.
“Ah--!” I woke up from the bed.
I covered my chest and found my heart pounding. I sat up and my mind was confused. I saw that I was naked and I knew I was still in Hannah ‘s bed, but she was gone.
The clock on the bedside table showed it was three in the morning, and she left me a card that said: Abigail, I have something to do and I’m leaving first.
No other information was left.
I broke out in a cold sweat and my crotch was full of vaginal fluid, so I walked into the bathroom and let the hot water hit my body.
The feeling in the dream was still flashing in my mind, and I remembered how fiercely those two men raped us, they even wanted to fuck us to death literally.
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