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From: Taboo <b@nging.mom>
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Organization: Incest is the best. Put your mother to the test.
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Subject: Jennifer- A mother-Son Romance Inspired By A True Story Chapter One
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Date: Wed, 04 Aug 2004 02:26:26 +0000
===================
Jennifer
Chapter One
My mother had always been my very best friend. From as far back
as I
can remember, we did everything together. We also were able to talk
about everything, and mom was not one to hide any information from me.
Where other mothers were telling their children lies about where babies
come from, my mom told me the truth at a very early age, although the
information she gave me was not as detailed because my undeveloped mind
probably would not have understood it.
My father had died when I was six months old, and since then it
had
been just me and mom. We were each other's support and comfort. And
mom was always very affectionate with me. She would kiss me frequently
on the lips and hold me so close to her that my face would be pressed
into her breasts, which always made me feel good since it was frequently
the case that my head was pressed into her bare breasts. Nudity was the
"in" thing in our house, and I can't remember a time when it was just
the two of us that we didn't walk around naked in front of each other.
I guess it's normal for a little boy to be fascinated with the
parts of
his mother's body that he himself didn't have. I was always touching
and squeezing her boobs because they felt so good to me, and she didn't
seem to care. I remember on several occasions when we were just sitting
together and holding each other, she would take my hand and put it on
her breast. Then she would just sit there with her eyes closed and a
nice smile on her face as I squeezed and fondled her boobs. And although
mom didn't seem particularly interested in touching my penis, I once
tried to touch between her legs. She immediately took my hand and
directed it to her breasts and explained that she was very sensitive
between her legs. So I didn't try to touch there again.
If you're starting to think that my mother had incestuous
desires for
me, you'd be correct, although at the age of nine I didn't think that
what she was doing was anything other than normal. It also didn't seem
wrong that she allowed me to drink milk from her breasts at that age,
although I drank less of her milk then than I had before. It just
didn't taste as good as cow's milk, but I enjoyed the closeness with mom
that breastfeeding made me feel. It also seemed to make my mom happy,
and making her happy was very important to me.
We lived alone in a ranch house that was miles from our nearest
neighbor. My father had been very successful in his business, and
because we always lived below our means, we did extremely well
financially. When he died, mom sold dad's business and the money from
that, together with the one million dollars in life insurance money he
had on himself, we were able to survive without mom having to work. The
house was paid for, and our bills were few and low. That also enabled
mom to homeschool me, which she said she did for two reasons. One was
that she believed homeschooling me would provide me with a much better
education than I would get in a public school, and the other reason was
that she liked having me near her all the time.
Mom treated me less like a child and more like a man. When I
did
household chores and tended to the yard, it was because she made me feel
more like I was her husband, although she never called me that, and that
made me want to do a good job for her. Afterall, she was always taking
care of me and heaping so much love on me that I hoped things would
always stay just like they were then. And mom even showed me how to
write checks and balance the checkbook. There was no problem with me
writing checks for the bills, so long as I didn't try and sign the
checks.
In our spare time, which she always made sure we had plenty of,
we gave
each other backrubs and foot massages. And we always spent time just
holding each other. And kissing. Not french kissing, but I distinctly
remember mom giving more than just a quick peck on the lips. Sometimes
her lips would do things that made me feel really good, like caressing
my upper and lower lips separately. As I understand things now, I seem
to recall that many of our kisses were indeed passionate but without the
tongue.
Now let me describe to you this woman. In my eyes she was a
very
beautiful woman. I always took the time to tell her so, and she would
never forget to tell me how good that would make her feel. I don't know
how good I am going to be in describing her, but I am going to try.
Well my mother was a brunette. Her hair was long, probably
extending
down to her shoulder blades, and it was always so soft to touch, which I
frequently did. Mom and I always seemed to enjoy running our fingers
through each other's hair, and on many occasions we even brushed each
other's hair just because it felt good.
She had brown eyes, eyes that always told me how much she loved
me by
just the way they would look into mine. But she wasn't terribly big on
makeup. That was reserved for her lips and her cheeks. Other than
that, mom never put makeup on her eyes, as she once told me that she
felt makeup destroys the natural beauty of a woman's eyes.
Mom's face was absolutely beautiful. Even the faces of the
porcelein
dolls she would buy herself at Christmas were not even close to being as
beautiful as mom's. And that is all I can say. Beauty is obviously in
the eye of the beholder, and although I believe all of you would agree
that she was gorgeous if you saw a picture of her, a picture is what it
would take since words just cannot describe beauty.
When it came to makeup, mom always used the most bright red
lipstick on
her lips. And trust me when I say that it always felt good when mom and
I would kiss. The most beautiful and tender moments from those early
years were those we spent kissing. I think I forgot to mention that,
although there were four bedrooms in the house, mom and I always slept
in the same bed. That was another reason why I felt as though I was her
husband. I was sleeping in her bed in the same spot she said my dad
used to sleep. Anyway, there were so many nights when mom and I would
just lay in bed and spend many minutes kissing, and when we were kissing
as we held each other tightly, I would feel as though I was in Heaven.
As for her cheeks, mom used blush to make them look as red as
they
might have looked had she walked in after spending several hours out in
the cold weather.
As for the rest of her body, mom was not a skinny woman. But
she also
wasn't fat or even full-figured. Her stomach had a noticeable bulge,
but it wasn't anything close to an obese woman's stomach. Lets' just
say that when it comes to her body, mom had some meat on her bones, but
she wasn't full-figured. I don't think I could describe it any
better.
My mother's breasts were probably normal in size. She certainly
wasn't
flat-chested, but she also didn't have milk jugs either. And the only
thing I can say about her vaginal area was that she had some pubic hair
down there. It wasn't overgrown, though.
I don't know how I did in describing her, but there it is.
Well everything I've just written is just the background you
would need
to know before I get to what my story is really all about.