Chapter 1: Fucking Timmy

I suppose I can understand why Harold left me for his secretary. She’s 18 years younger than I am, has a hot body, and dresses like a slut to show it off. I’m sure she’s probably also good in bed, especially with Harold since she knows he has a LOT of money. Not as much as he HAD, of course, after my divorce lawyer finished with him, but he’s still loaded even after our financial settlement. Frankly, now so am I, at least when it comes to money, but my self-esteem isn’t doing so great.

Anyone, especially a woman, needs to feel wanted and desirable, and yes, even sexy. I know I’ve put on weight since Harold and I were married 18 years ago. I was a skinny 105 pound, size 4 in those days. Now I’m 20 pounds heavier, with a few “love handles” I really could stand to lose. I’m also not what anyone would call beautiful, although I’m far from ugly and I have a pretty good body for my age. In short, I guess I’m a little better looking than most 42 year old women, but not much, if at all. I guess I’m what you’d call “ordinary.” My eyes are attractive enough, my face is probably a little too full, my hair is a dull shade of brown, my thighs are a little too large, and my 36C tits have started to sag just a bit. So overall, as I said, I guess I’m nothing special.

Unfortunately once Harold met his little slut girlfriend Susie he immediately lost all interest in sex with me. I recognized soon enough it would only be a matter of time before he left me for her even though I did everything I could for him in bed. One thing I do love is sex, and after Harold stopped giving it to me I had to turn to my little vibrating toys for a little sexual pleasure. I still missed the excitement only a real cock could provide, though, especially a man’s CUM. God how I love cum, but I didn’t want to go “bar hopping” looking for Mr. Goodbar because I’m actually quite shy, and that, coupled with my loss of confidence in myself resulting from my husband leaving me, was very depressing. While I wanted sex with a real cock again I had no idea how I’d ever manage to make that happen. Then fate intervened and my mind began to conjure up the most outrageous, sinful thoughts a mother could ever have in her perverted head. I began to fantasize about having sex with my son, Timmy.

Let me tell you about Timmy. He’s a nice young man. He’s also, like his mother, what I would call pretty “ordinary” in the “looks” department. A stud he isn’t! He’s a skinny kid, 14 years old, weighing only around 125 pounds or so, and he’s actually kind of nerdy looking. He’s certainly not an athlete or anything, but he gets good grades in school, and is even more painfully shy than I was at that age.

So what was this big event that started me on my no turning back voyage into sexual depravity and incest with my son? Let me tell you about it.

I was in Timmy’s room one afternoon, making his bed for him, when I happened to notice what looked like a handkerchief sticking out from under his mattress. I pulled out the cotton material, and to my shock and surprise discovered a pair of my soiled panties ... and sections of them seemed to be stained with what I knew had to be CUM!

I was stunned, of course, and when on impulse I lifted the nasty panties to my nostrils, and sniffed them, the unmistakable scent of my pussy mingled with cum was easy to identify. Not knowing what to do I put them back where I found them, then moved to Timmy’s computer. While he doesn’t think I’m very technically competent, I actually am. I spend much of my days like I suspect you do as well, dear reader, searching for and enjoying pornography, masturbating as I read or view it. And so I knew how to find the sites Timmy had been visiting, and as I suspected, they were many of the same sites I enjoy myself. Of course I love this site where you’re reading this now!

So I did a search on his hard drive, and there, hidden deep within his folders, I found them ... numerous incest stories of mothers fucking their sons, as well as photos of young men having all manner of incredible sex with older women which I learned were called either MILF’s or Cougars. Could this be possible? Could my own son Tim be masturbating while fantasizing about fucking me?

Back in my room I lay on my bed, my eyes closed, my mind conjuring up incredible sexual fantasies of my own. Were they the same as my son’s ... fantasies of us fucking, having all kinds of perverted sex together, I wondered? After finding my panties in his room I thought it only logical that he must have been thinking about having sex with me. Using one of my vibrators, I began to hatch a plan while delicious sensations of the most pleasurable kind washed over me. I knew what I wanted to do ... had to do ... and also knew I was going to do it.

After giving myself a delicious orgasm, I got out of bed and on shaky legs made my way into my closet. There at the top of my dirty clothes hamper I found what I needed ... the pair of soiled panties I’d worn that morning while doing housework. They were still slightly warm and damp from my sweat and cunt juice ... I hadn’t showered until after doing my work ... and when I held them to my nose and sniffed them their rank fragrance was almost overpowering. Perfect! But to make them even more useful to Timmy I shamelessly wiped them through and into my dripping cunt. On fire with lust again now, my mind could hardly accept what I was about to do, but I did it anyway. Trembling, I sat on the toilet and peed, then used the crotch of my panties to wipe myself afterward, almost coming again from carrying out such a brazen, nasty act!

When finished, I went back into Tim’s room and replaced the panties I’d found there with this new pair. Waves of lust washed over me as I did it, knowing Tim would find the old panties replaced with these new wetter ones, knowing he would know I had to be the person who replaced my old pair with these. What would he think of me? How would he react? I couldn’t wait to find out.

That night, a Friday, after dinner I told Tim I was tired and said I was going to go to bed early. He said that was fine because he had some research he wanted to do on his computer in his room. Research, yeah, right. I knew what kind of “research” he was going to do, and I wondered if he’d sniff my panties while he did it.

In my room I dressed in a tacky pair of purple crotchless panties and a sexy negligee I hadn’t worn in months. It consisted of transparent purple lace, with a support wire that pushed my breasts up and made them look even larger than they were. The sexy garment also had stocking clasps along the bottom edge similar to a garter belt, so I added a pair of matching lavender stockings and attached them with the clasps on the bottom of the teddy. Then I waited, exactly one hour, lying there in the dark, touching myself slowly during the waiting period, not allowing myself to come, instead merely teasing myself, growing wetter by the minute, using my fingers to keep my body and mind in a continual state of arousal. Then when I was sure Tim thought I must be sleeping I quietly got out of bed and tip-toed down the hall to his bedroom. His room lights were out, but I could hear the soft, but unmistakable sounds of sex coming from his computer.

As quietly as possible, I turned the knob on his door and silently opened it. Looking in I found my son as I suspected I would. He was wearing only a white tee shirt, naked from the waist down, watching a porn video on his PC as he slowly masturbated his hard cock. And as I’d hoped, he was holding the new pair of my soiled panties up to his nose, sniffing them while he played with himself.

I crept into the room, moving ever so slowly, crawling on my hands and knees toward where he sat masturbating. I was so hot. SO fucking hot. I knew what I was about to do was wrong, very wrong, but the need inside me was too great to prevent me from doing what I knew was wrong. So I did it anyway.

“Let me suck it, baby,” I said, crawling up next to Timmy, startling him.

“MOM! Oh MOM! GEEZ!” he gasped, jumping, trying to cover his cock with my panties.

“NO! STOP, Tim. Show it to me. Show me your beautiful, naked cock. I WANT TO SEE IT, BABY. I see you liked the new pair of panties I left for you, didn’t you?” I asked, reaching down where he had draped the panties over his cock, my fingers grasping it.

“Oh God, Mother ... I ... I...” he stammered.

“Hush, Tim. Don’t fight it. I need this. More than you. Let me do it. Please. Let me suck your cock. Then you can do anything you want to me. Anything, baby,” I breathed, leaning forward, my lips ever so close to my son’s cock. “Anything...” I whispered again. And then I took the cock inside my mouth.

“Ohhhh, Motherrrrrr!” he moaned, slumping down in his chair, his eyes drooping almost closed, then opening again to stare down at me as I began sucking him.

For a moment the only sounds in the room came from the computer. Then the video clip Tim was watching stopped, and the sounds from the computer were replaced by the wet sounds of me sucking my son’s cock. I looked up at Tim as I licked the underside of his dick, relishing what I was doing, encouraged by the expression of pure delight registering there on his face.

“I love to suck cock, Timmy,” I said. “And I love to fuck. I love sex,” I said, licking his cock, then moving lower, my lips and tongue washing over his balls. “I know you’ve been using my panties to masturbate with,” I continued. “I was so excited when I found out what you’d been doing. Now you can use my mouth instead of your fingers, honey. You can fuck my mouth, Timmy. Or you can fuck me anywhere you want ... in any of my holes ... my mouth, like this,” I said, slurping my lips down over the full length of his young cock. “Or here, in my cunt,” I said, leaning back, sliding down onto the floor next to him, my legs spread, wet pussy on display for him. “Or you can fuck me in the ass, Timmy. Anywhere. You can do anything you want to me, baby. Use me. Treat me nasty. Come in me. On me. Anything, Timmy. Just use me. Please. I want it, Timmy. I need it.”