Mom Learns a Lesson

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This is a true story that occurred over the past year.

I learned a lesson, big time, not so long ago.

Fantasies are best kept to yourself!

This is how it happened:

Over the last year and a half I have gotten into reading erotica on my computer. I started out with the younger men older women stories, but for some reason unknown to me at the time, plain curiosity perhaps, I moved on to mother and son incest stories. Until that time I had never even looked at my two older sons in anything but a motherly way. After reading some of the stories and realizing how turned on I was getting, my thoughts drifted my sons’ way. Both of these sons were over twenty years old.

I started out fantasizing about my oldest who is in the service, and after one of his leave visits, I wrote one of my fantasies down in a story. After writing a few stories involving him, my fantasies started involving my next oldest son who lives at home with me. I wrote a few stories about him and me, figuring just like with my oldest, it would stop there. Boy, was I wrong!

I found out that the last thing a mother should do is fantasize about a son who is living in the same house as her. The constant reminder that there is a young unattached male within reach everyday, and the knowledge that this male is totally off limits, makes for extreme sexual frustrations. I was constantly frigging myself trying to lessen my urges to act on my fantasies, unfortunately that only proceeded to make me even hornier. The thoughts going through my head as to what I so longed to do with him in bed constantly filled my mind.

For several months I stole glances at him hoping he wouldn’t notice. Now my son is no jock, not skinny mind you but not muscular, and he only stands five foot six, but he wears his hair long and has the nicest eyes. I desired him more for those reasons.

Even though I still can pull off wearing short shorts and tank shirts in the summer, I never recalled ever catching any of my boys “checking me out,” but why should they. I’m only five foot tall, of average frame with a small pudge around my middle from having so many kids. My forty-nine year old body is showing its age with the wrinkles and greying hair. My very small breasts are starting to sag a tad, and I could drop a few pounds. My legs and my ass are my best assets.

I’ve been separated from my husband for almost ten years now and the only sexual relief I get is when I arrange a one time hookup session with guys I talk to online. I gave up trying to make relationships work several years ago. I haven’t even hooked up very often lately because they usually leave me unsatisfied and wanting more, so all I do most days is sit at my computer reading sex stories and taking care of myself.

A couple of months ago I was ready to burst from lack of sex. I was stressed, depressed, lonely, and horny as hell. I had a couple of drinks while surfing my hookup sites hoping to get lucky. I couldn’t connect with anyone, so now I was also frustrated! It was time to get my younger kids into bed, then I was going to frig myself to sleep. I went downstairs, and while getting the kids upstairs and trying to find the stuffed animals my youngest wanted to take to bed, I started bitching to my son about not being able to get lucky. He was helping to look for the animals and just kinda letting me rant. Something I do quite often.

The next thing I knew, and I can’t blame the alcohol because I was no more than fairly buzzed, I looked straight at him and asked if he would be interested. Well, he froze bahis firmaları in his tracks and his mouth dropped to the floor. It seemed like minutes, though only seconds, before he went back to what he was doing, and didn’t say a word to me. I tried to take the edge off by telling him he didn’t have to answer me right away, but to come upstairs to me if he wanted to help me out. I waited with anticipation. He didn’t come up and didn’t say a word to me the next day. Now I’m feeling disappointed and embarrassed.

I tried to make things better by writing him notes, I didn’t want to embarrass him more talking face to face, explaining my feelings, my desires and exactly, in detail, what I wanted from him. I even gave him one of the stories I wrote about him and me.

This is the story I gave him:


Man of The House

It’s been years since my husband and I separated. Though there is no chance of us getting back together, we haven’t filed for divorce yet. During these years I’ve been no saint. I’ve had a couple of short term relationships and quite a few one time hook ups. I fell in love with the first guy I was with after the separation and haven’t been able to get him out of my heart. So any guy I’ve been with since, just doesn’t do it for me emotionally. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had good sex, but no connection otherwise. I am so tired of trying to find the guy who will make me forget that first guy, that I’ve sworn off men for the time being. At the end of my forties and with a houseful of young kids, I’m not getting many offers other than for quick, no strings fun.

I’ve been focusing on my kids and trying to keep a roof over our heads. My twenty year old son still lives at home and has been like the man of the house the last couple of years. He hasn’t found a job yet, but earns his keep by helping me with my jobs or baby sitting while I work. He’s a good looking guy, about six inches taller than me and long straight hair. Since I grew up in the seventies, I like a guy with long hair, I’m also attracted to guys with moustaches which my son also has.

It’s been months now since I’ve been with anyone and when you happen to have a high sex drive it can be hell. I’ve been taking care of myself while browsing porn sights, but it just doesn’t compare to full one-on-one, hot and heavy sex with a guy. I know I swore off guys but something that has happened several times over the past week has me worried. I’ve found myself looking at my son in a way a mother should never look at her son. Maybe if I can find a one time hook up to release the tension building up inside me, I won’t do something I know is morally wrong.

It’s now ten PM, all the kids are in bed but the oldest and I’ve been online now for hours and none of my possible hook ups are available tonight. I’m horny as hell and getting even more frustrated. I mixed myself a strong drink which wasn’t helping, so I decided to go downstairs to mix another. My son was where he usually was, in front of the TV. I walked past him to the kitchen and started mixing my drink. My mind started fantasizing about my son and what it would feel like to be in his arms. Quickly I shook my head to get those thoughts out of there and turned to go back upstairs.

As I walked behind my son I glanced at the TV and saw that at the moment the movie he was watching was showing a very intense full nudity sex scene. Without realizing it I moved closer to the back of his chair, fixated on the TV screen. What I was seeing was getting to me. I could feel my body reacting to what the couple kaçak iddaa were doing and I leaned a bit closer. My face was right next to my sons. I placed my one hand on his shoulder without thinking and slowly slid it down to his chest. My son jumped at my touch and that snapped me back to reality. I apologized to him as I retreated to my room ashamed of what I had just done. Am I really that big of a slut to make a move on my son?

I was about to sit back down at my computer when my son popped his head in the door and asked if we could talk. Though I was still uncomfortable from what I had done, I motioned for him to come in. He walked over to me and said he wanted to talk about what just happened. I started to apologize again and he stopped me by pulling me to him and kissing me full on the mouth. I was in shock and didn’t pull away. He kissed me harder and I felt my lips part, welcoming his tongue into my mouth and kissing him back. Our hands were roaming all over each others bodies, totally oblivious to exactly what we were doing.

I started pulling his clothes off, shirt first so I could enjoy the feel and taste of his chest and nipples. I lightly ran my hands over his chest and alternated sucking on each nipple. I teasingly nibbled on his nipples while my hands grabbed his ass. When I was done I let him do the same to me. His hands and mouth felt so good on my small tits. As I’m enjoying this I start undoing his pants. I slid my hand into his pants eager to feel the bulge that was growing bigger. This caused him to stop sucking on my nipples and I dropped to my knees to help him out of his pants. As I released his cock from the confines of his pants, it stood straight up as if at attention. There I was with my face inches from his cock and loving the sight of it. I lightly explored his balls and shaft with my fingers while my son let out soft moans. I leaned closer, nuzzling his balls with my nose before licking and sucking on them. My sons’ moans grew louder. I kissed my way up his shaft. Running my tongue around the head and took just the head into my mouth. I sucked lightly on it then taking in a little with each suck until his entire cock was in my mouth. Damn I loved the feel of his hard cock in my mouth. I only mouth fucked him for a short time before I could tell from his moans that my son was close to orgasm, so I stopped and told him to lie down on the bed.

I took off my pants and straddled his chest. I bent down and kissed him deeply before telling him it was my turn. I planted my already wet pussy directly over his face. He explored every crevas with his fingers. I was thoroughly enjoying his touch and the feel of his fingers pumping inside my hole, but what I wanted more was his tongue there. I lowered myself onto his mouth and let out a gasp followed by a continuous moan as he ate me. His tongue was so soft and warm. Totally into the moment I forgot myself and pressed my pussy harder onto his face, forcing his tongue deeper into me. His hands were squeezing my ass roughly as I rode his face. I realized I was practically smothering him with my pussy so I eased up and moved away before I came.

I moved my hips down his body and started grinding myself on his shaft. I pressed my tits against his chest and kissed him hungrily. I circled my clit on the head of his cock and let it slide between my dripping wet pussy lips. When I felt the head at my twitching hole, I lowered myself slowly onto his hard meat. We both let out a moan of pleasure as we felt every inch of him enter me. I rode him with such intensity that even kaçak bahis my tiny tits were jiggling to his delight. I could tell by his breathing that he was ready to cum and since I was at the brink myself, I landed myself on him so fast and hard I thought he was going to break. We both let out simultaneous loud moans as both our bodies jerked with each others orgasm. He exploded over and over till I was so full of cum I thought I’d burst. Our hot mingled juices oozed out of me as I laid myself down on top of him.

After what seemed like forever, I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. I kissed him softly and started feeling his cock grow hard inside me again. I just smiled and told him to roll us over. I wanted him on top this time. I wanted him to pound the shit out of me as I cried for more. I put my legs over his shoulders, pulled his face to mine and kissed him hotly. I carressed his balls as he started slowly moving in and out of me. With each thrust I begged him harder, faster. I could hear and feel his balls spanking my ass. By this time we were both dripping with sweat. I dug my fingers into his back as he gave me the fuck of my life. Again we orgasmed simultaneously. I lowered my legs and held him tight against me. We kissed and he rolled off of me. I snuggled tight against him and asked him if he wanted to sleep with me. I wanted my son in my bed all night and I was no longer ashamed of it. I was about to make my son the real man of the house for as long as he wants me.

Back to my tale:

I was hoping he would see this wasn’t just a one time thought. I tried telling him I wanted to do this with him to deepen our bond, to share something so special, intimate, and beautiful with him. I wanted him to know that it wasn’t just the sex I desired. He didn’t respond to the notes or the story, so I told him if he couldn’t talk to me in person, to write down what he was feeling and leave it in my room.

The next day there was a note from him, I opened it hesitantly, hoping I would read what I longed to. Instead it stated that he no longer wanted me to bring the subject up, or give him anything more to read about what I wanted to do with him, he wasn’t interested. He put it very bluntly, he wasn’t the least bit attracted to me. My eyes welled up with tears. Reading those words tore my heart apart. I’ve been rejected by numerous guys through out my life, but to be told that by your own son whom you’ve been desiring, hurts a hundred fold. I cried long and hard, not only for my hurt but for the damage I may have done to my son.

After reading the note and pulling myself together, I went downstairs and told him I respected his feelings and I wouldn’t make any kind of move on him unless he told me he wanted me to. To say the air in the house was thick with tension after that would be putting it mildly. Day after day I fought and resisted the urge to stand close to him, to brush against him, to touch him, or the big taboo…kiss him. It was sheer torture. After a month I couldn’t stand it anymore and told him out right that if he couldn’t come to my bed, he had better find a job and move out. As much as I hated saying those words, I knew that was the best thing for both of us.

A week later he found a job and moved out a month after that. That night I cried. We don’t talk very often now, and I miss him so, so much. I don’t know if things will ever be the same between us again, and I don’t think anything I say or do will fix what I did. I still desire him and fantasize about him, but I keep it to myself, which I should have done in the first place. I also will never tell my oldest son the fantasies I had about him. Losing one son to a lapse in judgement on my part is punishment enough.

Some lessons just have to be learned the hard way, I guess.

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